of fire dragons and singing stars
by images-in-words
Summary: She was just a little girl that one eerily still summer night when her fathers brought her outside to gaze up at the stars, and she saw the giant, elegantly stretched shadow of something with enormous wings and a sinuous tail, haloed in the light of an impossibly bright full moon. Rachel is older now, and she has seen many things, but nothing has ever compared with that. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **prologue**

The clear night sky in Lima, Ohio, seems much the same as it is anywhere else. The blanket of darkness unfurls over the vast expanse, sequined with eons-old dots of light, and the warmth of the summer air rises up into it, vanishing into the cloudless black. People, cars and buildings all sleep within the ebon embrace of these slow-moving hours, and all is calm and peaceful in the slumbering town.

Some dream, some do not. And others seek sleep, and do not find it.

It is those wakeful few that sometimes look up into that sky, and see things that are not meant to be seen; and because they are not meant to be seen, they generally do not believe that they have seen them.

Because no one, in this world, in this day and age, believes in things like dragons.

No one, perhaps, save Rachel Berry.

She was just a little girl that one eerily still summer night when her fathers brought her outside to gaze up at the stars, and she saw the giant, elegantly stretched shadow of something with enormous wings and a sinuous tail, haloed in the light of an impossibly bright full moon. Her fathers had missed it, of course; they'd been too busy chatting away to each other, as they always were, about whatever silly things grown-ups talked about - and somehow, Rachel knew that this was something she shouldn't mention to them. A soft, dry voice had spoken in her mind, and gently advised that they could never, _would_ never understand what she had seen, and it was better for everyone if she kept it to herself, close to her memory and locked away in her heart.

 _There will be a time, little one,_ that strange voice had said, and Rachel trusted its wisdom completely.

So she did as she was bidden to do, and never told a single soul about the night she had seen a dragon flying past the moon, silvery light glinting off its scales, and its great golden eye had found her sitting on her little lounge chair in her fathers' backyard, and _winked_ at her.

Rachel is older now, and she has seen many things, but nothing has ever compared with that. And still, every so often, a strange, inexplicable feeling rouses her from her bed, twisting in her gut, and causes her to crawl out her bedroom window to sit on the roof – quietly, ever so quietly, it would not do to wake her fathers with this – and watch the night sky for a dragon in flight.

And on those nights, when that feeling takes hold of her, she feels neither heat or nor cold, no matter the temperature outside, and the soft, dry voice intones:

 _The time is coming. Make ready. Hold fast. A storm approaches. You will be needed. Soon.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter one  
**

"This is the final word and will of the Dragon Court, Santana. You _will_ fly down to the place the small folk call Lima, you _will_ walk the earth as a human – the first of our kind in thousands of years to do so – and you _will_ guard the child Rachel with your life," roared Alma, the Great Matriarch of the Fire Dragon Clan. Honestly, she had never seen a more stubborn and rebellious youngling in all her years – and _that_ was truly saying something, considering how long she had lived in this world.

"But, Grand Mother -" Santana began to plead, hoping that her use of the honorific would gain her some points, "why must it be me? Surely there are others in our clan more worthy, more well-suited to this task than I. Ones who fly faster, strike more swiftly, whose fire burns hotter -"

The Matriarch cut her off, weariness plain in her voice, in the droop of her enormous red wings, the slow tapping of her long, long tail against the cavern floor. " _Santana._ Please." She paused, fixing the recalcitrant youngling with a tired but unfaltering stare, one she knew would be held, defiantly. "You _know_ why. We have spoken of this hundreds upon hundreds of times. There is prophecy in it. The Law of prophecy cannot be altered. It cannot be refused, or wished away. From the day the child Rachel was born, your destiny and hers were inextricably bound. You carry a piece of her soul in you, just as she carries a piece of yours in her, and this is for the protection of each. There will be no further argument, no more discussion."

The air in the giant cavern crackled with energy, as magic swirled about in whorls and eddies. All the dragons of the Court felt it sizzling upon and under their great metallic scales; necks stretched, muscles bunched and wings curled in response. There was power enough here to break and remake the world a thousand times over.

The ancient dragon's eyes softened then, and she lowered her massive head to draw closer to the youngest in her Clan. "This is an honor, Santana. Why can you not see that?"

Santana bowed her own head in defeat as her Matriarch's elegant, tapered snout gently touched hers. Still, she protested weakly: "How is it an honor for one of our kind to walk the ground on two legs and wear flesh instead of scales? And for the sake of one of the small folk – and this one is _especially_ small, even for them?"

Alma's maw quirked up in a razor-fanged smile at the youngling's humor. Her wit had always been a most endearing trait.

"Ah, Santana, dearest one. It is not merely for the sake of the small folk. It is for our people's sake, and for the sake of all the Unseen, as well as theirs. Would you condemn the unicorns, and the gryphons, and the Mer beneath the Seas to doom for the sake of your pride? And what of the Nixies and the Sprites and all the rest of those in the Wood? Do you wish to see them erased from existence, as surely we ourselves will be, in the face of what threatens to return here? Because we Dragons are not what we were, and the greatest of those who allied themselves with us in the Elder Days – _you know those of whom I speak_ \- have moved on elsewhere, to other planes. Perhaps they may yet return. But we cannot count on that. No, it is all on the child – and _you,_ Santana – to keep the horror that _was_ from again becoming the horror that _is._ You are the Appointed. I say again, it your destiny, and that child's, if we are to survive, and this world is not to perish in chaos and agony."

Santana opened her molten gold eyes and saw the truth – the entire ghastly, horrifying truth – writ large in those of her Grand Mother's, and she knew with a crushing finality that she had no choice. She'd never had one from her Hatching Day, waking from her Egg-sleep with the girl's name pounding in her brain before she ever learned any other words, bursting from her shell into the world filled with panic and fear and a desperate desire to protect the one who bore that name.

And so she spoke the words of her Vow, her promise to bear the immense burden of the destiny being laid upon her, still not even fully understanding the magnitude of what she was agreeing to do. "I hear the word and the will, and I understand. I will do this, as you command, to the best of my ability."

"So hear you all?" the Great Matriarch called to the others of the Circle assembled there in the cavern, surrounded by rock that glowed with its own inner light, leaving no need for a fire pit or torches or any other, lesser form of illumination.

"We hear. We see. We serve the word and the will of our ancient, unchanging purpose, ever obeying the Law as it was given unto us on the day the first Dragon uncurled his wings in the light of the first rays of a new born Sun," they chanted in response.

Their sky-home rumbled with the vibration of those combined voices, and those vibrations traveled down, down through the grey clouds of night, to be received by the silent, all-embracing earth, waking one small girl in the small town of Lima, Ohio, from her doze on the rooftop outside her bedroom window, her body buzzing with an odd mix of excitement and trepidation.

Rachel raised her eyes - and there, as she somehow knew it would be, in a circle of moonlight strangely tinted red, was the unmistakable, unforgettable shadow-shape of a dragon, slicing through the night with the keen sharpness of a new-forged blade.

Suddenly very much awake, and scrambling not very gracefully at all back through the window, she realized where the gigantic creature was headed: right toward Lima.


	3. Chapter 3

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter two**

After a few fitful hours of tossing and turning in her bed, followed by what Rachel was sure had been the fastest shower, outfit selection (for once, she was grateful that she owned a few T-shirts and pairs of jeans) make-up application and breakfast in recorded history, she hugged and kissed her dads goodbye and ran out the door shouting a hurried explanation, "Early Glee meeting I overslept I know I never do that I'm sorry bye!"

Driving faster than she ever had before – but still mindful of the speed limits in town and all other traffic regulations – she practically flew the short way to school, pulling into the first vacant student parking spot she saw with a screech. Her heart pounded as she slammed the car door shut and raced around to the front of the school, where she was sure it would be waiting to meet her. Panting, she was bewildered to see nothing but the usual group of early morning smokers gathered outside the front entrance. Not bothering to acknowledge the curious looks being shot her way by the little band of nicotine addicts, Rachel ran around to the back, thinking perhaps that the dragon would land – if it hadn't already – on the football field.

The thought of Coach Beiste being confronted by a giant, sentient fire-breathing lizard on her field brought a momentary smile to Rachel's face, but she dismissed it almost immediately when she saw only the Cheerios running laps around the track.

Where could it be? She was beyond certain that the creature was coming here. The voice in her mind that usually spoke to her at times like these remained strangely silent, adding to Rachel's frustration, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, as she always did. The gears in her mind turned, and then she had it.

 _Of course! The roof._

Sure enough, when Rachel looked up, there was a dark, enormous winged shape descending with shocking grace, headed toward the roof of the school building. She bolted across the parking lot, not even hearing the honks of horns and the angry curses of the teen drivers forced to stop short to avoid hitting her, and tore through the hallways to find the door that led up to the roof.

(She only knew where it was because she had gone up there once with Puck on a dare.)

Taking the stairs two at a time, breathing heavily and near exhaustion, she finally emerged from the relative dimness of the stairwell onto the roof and into the bright light of the Lima morning. What she saw then shocked her to the very core of her being.

The huge creature's scales gleamed in the sun like polished steel. Its massive wings stretched impossibly wide before folding into its sinuous, muscled torso, and its eyes glowed with the inner fire of an otherworldly intelligence that unnerved Rachel so much that she fell to her knees.

It fixed its reptilian gaze upon her, and she trembled under that terrifying stare.

 _Relax, tiny. I'm not going to eat you. Even though it was a long flight and I am actually pretty hungry._

Rachel blinked. The voice that had just sounded in her mind was definitely _not_ the same one that had been speaking to her occasionally for years now. This one was low and raspy, but definitely feminine. And it sounded as though it was... _amused?_

She found that she had no idea how to react, what to do, what to say. What did one say, exactly, upon meeting a gigantic mythical creature atop the roof of your high school?

 _Look, I get that you're uncomfortable. I'm sort of weirded out by it myself. After all, this is the first interaction between my kind and yours in thousands of years. There's really no way to prepare for this kind of thing._

Rachel said nothing, still shaking and unable to tear her eyes away from the extraordinary creature that sat on its hind legs, flicking the tip of its tail against the far edge of the roof.

 _All right, then. I didn't think I'd have to do this so soon, but...here goes._

Suddenly the air around the dragon shimmered, and waves of some force that Rachel was only barely able to perceive at the edge of her senses beat through the air. Power so ancient it defied comprehension was gathering here. It made something in her heart sing even as she felt completely terrified. At first, she couldn't even begin to understand what was happening, and then, all at once, she _knew,_ without knowing how she knew.

The dragon was... _changing._

Its wings shrank and retracted into its back, while its scales and limbs and even its great, vaguely triangular head all seemed to melt and flow like some viscous, metallic liquid, now stretching, now compacting. It was all happening in seconds, yet to Rachel it seemed as though hours were passing as she watched this creature of the world's dreams reshape itself into a form that Rachel could accept and understand.

 _Do not fear. It is one of the oldest and simplest magics. I mastered it when I was barely more than a hatchling._

The light flared impossibly bright, as though a miniature sun had suddenly been kindled before her, and Rachel forgot how to breathe for a moment.

And then, where a behemoth had been, a giant fashioned of leather and steel and legend, there now stood...a girl.

A beautiful, tan-skinned, dark-eyed, darker-haired girl, in an off the shoulder blouse, skin-tight jeans and high-top sneakers.

The most beautiful girl Rachel had ever seen. And she was _smirking_ at her, amusement dancing in her eyes, the smile making her eyes crinkle ever so slightly.

"Hello, Rachel. My name is Santana. And I'm here to help you save our world."


	4. Chapter 4

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter three**

Rachel's mouth was desert-dry as she tried to voice a reply to the dragon-girl's introduction; all she could do was squeak and cough and blink rapidly. Her mind was reeling as it attempted to process everything she had just witnessed. It was one thing, after all, to see the shadow-shape of a dragon flash across the night sky in the light of a bright moon – and quite another to see the actual creature, live and in the flesh, only a couple of feet in front of her.

She couldn't stop staring at Santana. The girl was so beautiful that words actually failed her.

It was possibly the first time in her life that she'd ever been struck speechless; her dads and friends would probably have given anything to see this moment. The thought of them laughing at her inability to form even the simplest of responses made her flush with anger at herself. She was Rachel Berry, damn it, and she was not going to be made to look like a fool, dragon or no dragon.

Yet when she finally opened her mouth to speak, the only words that came past her lips were "You – how – what?" She felt like crying with frustration, finally tearing her gaze away from Santana to focus her eyes at her feet instead. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as though she would shatter into a million pieces if she didn't do something to hold herself together.

Santana was acutely aware of the girl's distress, and quickly realized that she had to do something to alleviate it before a nervous breakdown occurred. She could hear Rachel's heart racing, felt the blood rushing through her veins at an elevated rate, knew the danger of the girl's mind fracturing before she even got the chance to learn and understand the truth of everything that was happening to her.

Needless to say, that would be a disaster. She could not allow it.

"Relax, short stuff. I know this is a lot to take in all at once. You're the first human to get this close to a dragon in thousands of years, and the first to see one of us assume another form in – well, ever. I'd be overwhelmed too if I were you, I guess. Not that I have any frame of reference to draw from, of course, but...still."

When Rachel's head suddenly snapped up, there was a feverish look in her wide eyes, and her skin was pale. It was clear that she was in a state of shock. She licked her lips and shifted from foot to foot nervously, her breathing labored. "I...I have to go. Homeroom. Yes. I have to get...get to homeroom. Can't be late, no. I'm never...never late."

One mind began to reach out to the other, but that approach was quickly rejected in favor of a more _human_ solution.

Santana grasped Rachel's wrist in a firm but gentle hold. As the warmth of the contact spread quickly through the smaller girl's body, her quaking, heaving breaths slowed. The dragon-girl's eyes shone with kindness as she caught and held Rachel's, and her soft smile of reassurance helped to calm her further.

"Hey. It's all right. Everything is all right. Okay? Deep breaths. You're all right," Santana whispered. The certainty in that voice, the command in it, left Rachel no choice but to believe what she was hearing, enabling her to come back to herself at last.

Shuddering, expelling her anxiety in one giant breath, Rachel found her voice at last.

"I'm - I'm not sure anything will ever be completely all right ever again. My entire world just changed in the space of a few minutes. But there's no time to talk about this now, because I really _do_ need to get to homeroom...Santana."

The name sounded far too small to encompass all that the slender, caramel-skinned girl actually was, as it came rolling off Rachel's tongue for the first time, but she couldn't deny that she liked the sound of it just the same.

Santana, for her part, was amused by the way the girl said it, as though it were a word in an alien tongue and not a human one. Of course, her actual name, her secret name, could only be spoken in the true speech of dragonkind, for it was impossible for the small folk to even attempt to verbalize.

Her smile widened, now that the moment of crisis had passed, and Rachel was just standing there, looking at her expectantly.

A startled little "oh!" passed her lips when Santana's hand slipped into hers.

"Then let's go," the girl who was also a dragon said, chuckling.

And suddenly, time and space _bent_ around them, the sensation registering to Rachel as the world pressing around and on top of her, as though she were being tightly squeezed by the air itself -

She opened her eyes to find that they were both standing at her locker, the tide of humanity that was the McKinley High School student body flowing around them as though they hadn't just been standing on the roof a _second_ ago.

Santana merely shrugged at Rachel's bewildered, questioning look. The girl had so much to learn. She only hoped that there would be time enough to teach it all.

Nonplussed, Rachel shook her head and turned her attention to the task of opening her locker to gather her books and supplies, wondering how she could possibly pretend that this was going to be just another normal, ordinary day of school. She had seen a dragon!

And then, perhaps even more incredibly, she had seen that same dragon transform itself into a girl. Not just _a_ girl, either – an absolutely _stunning_ girl, with the most gorgeous skin, the darkest, silkiest hair, and the most amazing eyes and lips and smile she had ever seen. She felt herself blush as she allowed herself to think, for the most fleeting of moments, about Santana's body, those long, lithe, toned limbs and hard curves.

Suddenly, a voice rose above the din of the crowded hallway, and Rachel was torn from her thoughts at the sound of her name being called. A smile leapt across her face as she looked up to see McKinley High's very own Unholy Trinity coming her way, other students scrambling and scurrying to remove themselves from their path.

"Hey, Rachel," the unmistakable voice of Quinn Fabray, soft, breathy and ethereal, yet charged with the confidence that came with being in command of the state's best cheerleading squad, lilted in her ears once the trio came to a stop beside her. The school's resident blonde goddess was looking flawless as usual, golden tresses pulled away from her perfect alabaster face in the severe high ponytail that was the trademark of the Cheerios, her uniform fitted to her body as though she'd been born in it.

Quinn was flanked by a taller blonde, also in a Cheerios uniform, whose smile was as wide and bright as Quinn's was small and reserved. Her blue eyes sparkled with happiness at seeing her friend - but then again, everyone was Brittany Pierce's friend, because the girl was sweetness personified.

"Hi Rachel," Brittany said as she leaned forward to gather Rachel into her arms for the first of their daily hugs. No one loved a good hug as much as Brittany, and she insisted upon hugging the smaller girl every morning upon arriving at school, then again at lunch, again at the beginning of Glee, and finally at the end of Glee, before skipping off to spend her after-school hours with Quinn at the storied Fabray mansion.

"Good morning, Brittany," Rachel replied, relaxing into her friend's embrace. She'd really needed this hug, and Brittany, being the excellent reader of emotions that she was, picked up on that need immediately. She clutched Rachel just a little harder than usual, loving the way Rachel melted against her.

"Is everything all right?" Brittany asked, concern evident in her voice. "You feel a little tense today."

Reluctantly, Rachel pulled herself from Brittany's arms and said, "I'm okay, Britt." Her eyes darted back to Santana, who had somehow managed to make herself inconspicuous, leaning against the lockers next to Rachel's. "I just...I didn't sleep all that well last night. It happens sometimes."

The voice of the third member of the Unholy Trinity piped up in all its loud, brassy, gum-smacking glory. "Up all night thinking about your next solo in Glee again, Rachie? Sorry. Asperger's."

Rachel smiled indulgently. She had learned long ago that Sugar Motta almost never meant any of the unfiltered things that came out of her mouth. She was a loopy, ditzy redhead with a penchant for expensive, flashy clothes and jewelry, and though it sometimes didn't seem like it, the girl really didn't have a mean bone in her hyperactive body.

"No, Sugar. I'm actually very much looking forward to this afternoon's competition, as I have every confidence that Mr. Schuester will choose the soloist whose vocal range is best suited to whichever song he's selected as our opening number at Regionals."

The warning bell rang, effectively signaling that the time for idle conversation had come to a close, and now it was time for everyone to get to their homeroom. The penalty for lateness was detention, and no one wanted that.

The four friends smiled at each other, about to head off to their respective classrooms, but before turning to leave, Quinn surprised Rachel by gesturing toward Santana with a flick of her elegantly sculpted fingers and saying, "I hope you'll introduce us to your new friend later."

The head cheerleader's raised eyebrow let Rachel know that the request was not one that could be refused. They were friends, but Quinn was still intimidating, and very used to getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it; she was referred to as the "Head Bitch in Charge" for very good reason.

"Oh! Of – of course, Quinn. We'll see you later, okay?"

The eyebrow came down, and a serene, satisfied smile quirked Quinn's lips upward. "Later, Rachel." She linked hands with Sugar and Brittany as they began to walk away, and Rachel heard her command them: "Come on girls, let's go. We don't want to be late, do we?"

"Well, that one is a piece of work, isn't she?" Santana said as she emerged from the shadows, wondering at the exchange she had just witnessed.

"They all are, to be honest with you. But I love them," Rachel replied, smiling affectionately after her friends. "Now, we really _must_ get going. There are approximately forty-five seconds left before the final bell rings, and -"

Santana _smirked_ at her again, and before she could say another word, time and space _bent_ around them once more.

"You really need to warn me when you're going to do that," Rachel gasped as they stood in the doorway. Suddenly, she realized that she hadn't even told Santana where the classroom was, yet a glance at the number on the door told her that they were indeed in the right place.

"Wait – how did you – _ugh!"_ she exclaimed, stamping her foot in annoyance as Santana just continued to _smirk_ at her.

And so it was that Rachel Berry then executed her first-ever _storm-in._

Santana laughed softly as she followed Rachel into the classroom, but Rachel heard the whisper of fire in it. She shivered at the subtle undertone, but whether it was caused by fear or excitement, she couldn't tell.


	5. Chapter 5

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter four**

 _\- interlude -_

 _The vision crashed into Santana, sudden and terrifying: she was flying into the full force of a howling hurricane wind, spinning around, buffeted and helpless, her wings splayed wide, mouth open in a soundless roar. All about her, the other dragons tried in vain to cut through the storm, struggling against the maelstrom as she was. As frightening as the sheer violence of it was, what Santana found even more shocking was silence that accompanied it. Where was their voice? Where was the legendary might of the dragons' roar, that power that could rend the world asunder, crack it open to spill the heat of its blood out into the void?_

 _And then she knew: this was it, the thing so terrible that even dragons feared it, that bane of all existence, the shiver down the spine of all the known worlds. The dread that lay deep in the very soul of everything in existence._

 _All around her, dragons roared their muted roars, fire flew against the force of the storm, and was thrown back tenfold, charring wings, melting scales, sending proud, ancient warriors who had fought for this world in its infancy down, down, down to the blackened, smoldering ground, into the boiling, roiling seas, smashing against the peaks of mountains, hurtling into great chasms, all screaming, screaming without a sound._

 _This was how everything ended: without even a whimper to mark its passing._

"Santana? Can you hear me? Santana, come on! You're scaring me!"

Rachel's voice, frightened and insistent, cut through the vision like a keenly forged blade, releasing Santana from its grip. In that moment, as she came back to herself, the dragon-girl knew that she had been touched, not once, but twice by magic: the first time, by the vision itself, or whoever ( _whatever?_ ) had sent it; the second, by the power in Rachel's voice – because only magic could have broken the malevolent spell that had been meant to ensnare her in an endless loop of horror.

"By the First Egg," she breathed, thanking the myriad dragon gods. She turned to look at the small, still terrified human girl beside her, whose face was white with fear, eyes alight with terror. "Rachel...do you know what you just did?"

Confused and trembling, Rachel shook her head. "Um...no? You zoned out in the middle of lunch and I – I had to do something, so I just...yelled to snap you out of it."

"You countered a spell that someone -" Santana tried, and failed, to suppress a shudder. " - or some _thing_ cast on me, from who knows how far away. You used your magic for the first time to free me."

" _Magic?"_ Rachel scoffed. "While I can do a great many things with my voice, I am certain that is one thing that's beyond even my extensive vocal abilities. No, it was merely the volume at which I was shouting your name that woke you up."

Frustrated, Santana grabbed Rachel's arms and fixed her with a glare from which Rachel could not look away, despite her great desire to do so. Suddenly, the petite diva wanted to be anywhere but where she was. Around them, the normal buzz and rhythm of the McKinley High School lunchroom continued as if everything was normal, as if everything wasn't anything but normal. Conversations went on, food was eaten, glances between crushes were stolen, and the small world spun as though there weren't forces all around them that could wipe them all out of existence as easily as a kid could step on an ant on his way out the door.

"Listen to me, Rachel. I wasn't just _zoning out,_ as you said. I was held in thrall to a particularly vicious attack of sorcery. My mind was caught in a vision so real I believed it was actually happening, a projection of death and destruction so devastating I would have died inside it, never knowing it was merely an illusion - an assault so subtle and pernicious, so perfectly constructed, that only a magician equal to its power could have found the thread to unravel its weave."

Rachel's mouth opened wide, then snapped shut as she squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to believe what she had just heard. She wished that she was listening to Brittany talk about unicorns or her cat, or Puck, Finn and Sam going on about the latest video game they'd been playing, or Kurt and Mercedes trading celebrity fashion and gossip stories – not about malevolent sorcery that could wipe out a mind.

Releasing Rachel's arms, Santana sighed. "Look, I know that everything that's happened to you since last night must seem like something out of a dream, but you have to know that this is all real. The sooner you accept that, the better off we both will be. There's no time for me to coddle you, as much as I wish there was. This was a warning, Rachel. A wake-up call. Something is coming, something more evil, more horrible than you can possibly imagine, and the only hope we have of defeating it is inside you."

Opening her eyes, Rachel felt her breath catch in her throat. Her voice sounded so small even to her own ears, not at all powerful, as she barely squeaked out a soft, "Me?" She paused, trying to process. It was too much. "How? Why? I mean, why me?"

"Because you, tiny, are the Voice of the Age. Magicians and prophets and seers of ten different races and more have all seen you in their dreams, heard your name on the wind, felt it in the movement of the stars and the waves on the water. The greatest of my kind have dipped their very claws in ink to scratch your name on walls and parchments proclaiming you as the one being on this earth who can do what must be done to save everything we know and love."

"Do you really believe that, Santana? That I, of all people, can beat back some kind of mystical Armageddon with nothing more than a rousing rendition of _Cabaret?_ "

The dragon-girl blinked, caught off-guard. Rachel noticed for the first time how they constantly changed colors, swirling from brown to green to gold to red to blue, each hue astonishingly sharp and clear, glinting like jewels whenever they caught the light just so.

Then Santana laughed, long and loud. When she recovered, wiping tears from her inhuman eyes, she said, "We dragons have a saying: _There are no unexpected events in a dragon's life, only inevitabilities that we pretend have surprised us._ You may be an inevitability, Rachel Berry, but I can honestly say that you have very much surprised me, no pretending."

"You think _you're_ surprised? I'm the one who was just informed that she's supposed to save the world. I'd say that counts as pretty much the biggest surprise ever."

"No, I'd say that singing _Cabaret_ at the dawn of the apocalypse would be an even bigger surprise. No one could possibly expect _that._ I mean, really, you couldn't come up with a better show-stopper?"

Rachel huffed indignantly. "You're a _dragon._ What do _you_ know about musical theater?"

Laughing again, Santana rose from the table and took Rachel's hands in hers, pulling the smaller girl up as well. "That's a surprise for another day, tiny. I think I've rocked your world enough for the moment." _This human is remarkably resilient,_ the dragon part of her mind thought. _It's a quality she will need in the days and months to come._

"Any more rocking and I'm certain I'll fall right over," Rachel said, smiling. She was still reeling internally, and didn't doubt for a second that Santana knew it, but when all else failed, the ever-reliable show smile was always there.

Then a strange feeling came over her, a feeling unlike anything else Rachel had ever known, and she knew that power was being gathered. Santana stiffened, and turned with preternatural quickness, eyes red and fangs suddenly bared. The world shifted into slow motion.

Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. The sound barely registered in Rachel's ears.

The squarely built, thick-necked jock in the letterman jacket striding with purpose towards them, holding a large slushy cup in his meaty hand, had no idea what he was walking into.

Faster almost than the eye could see, a mere blur to Rachel's sight, Santana stepped in front of her and into the jock's path. A caramel-skinned hand shot out of nowhere to grasp his wrist. The frozen beverage-filled cup fell to the floor, spilling its contents to create a purple pond, and a shrill cry of pain pierced the air as the jock's knees came down hard in the midst of the pond, sending purple drops shooting up off the floor and into his eyes, drawing another cry from the boy's lips. An angry, feral grin leapt across Santana's face, and her other hand, the one not crushing the jock's wrist, gestured down and across the liquid mess, then angled upwards again – and the icy drink swept up off the floor like a small purple wave, directly onto his head, splashing down into his face, beneath his jacket, into his shirt, staining everything.

"Im'a gonna break this down real quick for you, son. That girl behind me there, the one you just tried to assault – and yes, dumbass, that _is_ assault – is my friend. And if you mess with my friend, you mess with _me._ You _don't_ want to mess with me, _comprende?_ Just nod your stupid purple head if you understand."

The boy, whimpering in agony, nodded as instructed.

"Oh, good. You're actually _not_ stupid as you look. That helps. Now, listen to Auntie Tana here, and listen close: if you or anyone else in this dump even so much as _thinks –_ and I'm using that term _very_ loosely here – of trying to harm my friend, or any of her other friends, again, I'll know. If you even _breathe_ in her direction, I'll know. And then bad things will happen. Very, _very_ bad things. You get me?"

Another fervent nod.

"Excellent. I'm so glad we had this little talk. Now go get yourself cleaned up. You're a mess."

She released his wrist, and he scrambled to his feet, slipping and sliding on his wet sneakers as he did so. Then he ran from the cafeteria, crying.

The assembled crowd followed his hasty exit with its eyes, then turned them back in Rachel and Santana's direction. A myriad of expressions – shock, wonder, fear, amazement – showed on the collected faces. Even the teachers who had shown up to witness the confrontation stood rooted in place, not comprehending what they had just seen.

Santana's voice spoke in their minds, calm and low and soothing.

 _He just tripped on his own oversized feet and spilled the slushy on himself. That's all._

"What are you all looking at? Get to class – NOW!" Coach Beiste bellowed, and the gathering quickly broke up, the students hurrying to comply with her order.

Mr. Schuester approached Rachel tentatively. "Are you all right?"

Rachel smiled sweetly at him. "Never better." She turned to Santana, who had sidled up to her as though nothing at all had happened. "Ready to go?"

Santana shrugged, affecting an air of indifference, but Rachel didn't miss the smile lighting up her eyes, the one meant only for her to see. "I guess so."

"Then we'll be on our way. Can't be late to class, you know," Rachel said airily. She offered the crook of her arm to the other girl, who slipped her own through it.

They walked out of the cafeteria that way, leaving two very confused adults staring after them, wondering what else could possibly happen in this school.


	6. Chapter 6

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter five**

Santana groaned as she walked Rachel from her last class of the day toward the choir room. The girl was bouncing with enthusiasm, but it clearly wasn't contagious.

"Rock and sky, girl! I haven't unfurled my wings for hours, and you want me to sit in yet another room and listen to another human drone on about nothing?"

Frowning, Rachel admonished her new friend as they stopped just outside the choir room door. "Glee isn't like that, Santana. It's an extracurricular activity, a club, where we sing and dance and express ourselves. I know you've experienced all kinds of things I can't even begin to imagine, but I'm pretty certain you've never seen or heard anything like the New Directions."

Before Santana could even think of a reply, they were accosted by a pair of tall, pale, statuesque blonde girls in red and white uniforms of some sort, featuring long-sleeved tops and short, paneled skirts. One had intense hazel eyes flecked with gold, the other like the bluest of blue skies. The taller of the two, the blue-eyed one, bent down to wrap Rachel in an affectionate embrace while the other stood and fixed Santana with an appraising stare, as if questioning her worthiness to be standing next to Rachel. The dragon-girl might have laughed at her expression, had she not actually been touched by this most obvious display of loyalty.

"Hi Rachel!" the girl who held Rachel in her arms squealed. Santana's acute hearing caught the expulsion of breath from Rachel's lungs as the embrace tightened around her. Rachel struggled to return the hug, weakly folding her arms against the taller girl's back.

"Brittany!" Rachel gasped. "I can't breathe."

Brittany released her instantly, the bright smile on her face transformed to a look of concern. She rested a hand gently on Rachel's shoulder as the smaller girl caught her breath. "Sorry, Rachel. I'm just happy to see you! Aren't you happy to see me and Quinn too?"

Rachel smiled up at Brittany, and Santana could see that it was a practiced smile, probably one always used to allay the blonde's fear that somehow she had hurt her friend, and it produced the intended effect: Brittany relaxed and grinned again, her concern immediately forgotten.

"Rachel," Quinn said, her eyes still focused on Santana. Her voice was as cool and crisp as an autumn wind, drawing the singer's attention immediately. "Who's your new friend here? Not another Sunshine Corazon, I hope. I really don't think Mike and Tina are up for another crackhouse rescue mission."

Blushing, Rachel took Santana's hand. "I'm so sorry. Please excuse my manners. It's been a bit of a... _trying_ day."

Quinn raised an eyebrow, and Santana didn't miss Rachel's flinch at the small gesture; apparently it spoke volumes between the two girls, although what it actually meant, she couldn't guess.

"It's complicated, Quinn, but believe me, not in a bad way." Rachel paused to beam at Santana. "Anyway, this is Santana. She's...um, new here. An exchange student, I guess you could say."

"Oh, like Rory?" Brittany said, her childlike curiosity piqued, blue eyes flashing with interest. "Is she magic too?"

"Britt," Quinn chuckled. "Rory was _not_ a leprechaun."

Santana extended her left hand, the one not being held by Rachel, to Quinn in the curious gesture of friendly greeting that was peculiar to humans. All that instruction regarding human customs was finally paying off.

"Nice to meet you, Quinn," she said as the blonde took the offering in a firm grip and shook. Suspicion continued to swirl in those luminous hazel orbs, but Santana was not about to feel threatened by this girl, no matter how much power she clearly thought she had. She met Quinn's scrutinizing gaze and grasped her hand just as firmly.

Santana had been in rooms with _real_ power, after all. The kind of power this child couldn't possibly imagine existed in this world.

Still, there was a challenge and a warning in Quinn's calm but fierce expression, one that said, _Hurt Rachel and you'll answer to me._

She let her own eyes return the warning: _Same goes for you._

The momentary tension was broken when a pair of Asians, a boy dressed in jeans, an open flannel shirt and jeans, and a girl, wearing a colorful mini-dress and knee high boots, came up to them, the girl pushing a bespectacled boy in a wheelchair before her. Santana found herself suppressing a grin at the seated boy's sweater vest, button-up dress shirt and bow-tie ensemble.

"Tina! Mike! Artie!" Brittany shouted joyfully, saving Rachel the trouble of providing the trio's names. The Asian girl released the wheelchair to open her arms and receive the inevitable hug from Brittany, while the boy standing next to her smiled and said, inclining his head towards the other two girls. "Hey, Rachel. Hey, Quinn."

"Hello, Michael," Rachel said warmly, looking up at the tall Asian boy, then looking down to the boy in the chair. "Artie. I trust you both are well today?"

"Strangely, we are," Artie said. "It seems there was some kind of incident in the lunchroom today that freaked out our usual adversaries so much that not a single drop of slushy has flown in the direction of a single Gleek. No one's giving up any details, though – just that some jock was stopped mid-slushy throw and suffered some mysterious injuries afterward."

Rachel and Santana shared a knowing look that lasted only a second, and then Tina stepped around Brittany to hug a now-smiling Quinn, and then Rachel.

"Yeah, it's the weirdest thing," Tina agreed. "Everyone's talking about it, but no one seems to know anything. They don't even know who it was that the guy was trying to hit, just that he failed spectacularly. Even the normally trusty cell phone videos have failed us – it's like everyone's camera app stopped working at the same time. Isn't that completely bizarre?"

At this, Rachel's eyes flashed and Quinn's eyebrow went up again. Santana's voice spoke in Rachel's mind to calm her: _Magic. It has its side effects._

They filed into the choir room as the others continued to discuss the strangeness of the cafeteria incident. Santana watched as a slight, pale-skinned and quite fashionably dressed boy with an impish upturned nose entered arm in arm with a heavy-set but still quite lovely black girl, chuckling over some private joke as they whispered to each other.

"Kurt and Mercedes," Rachel said. "Dear friends, but terrible gossips."

A trio of boys entered next: the first one unusually tall and a little goofy looking, with an odd sort of half-smile on his face, the second with blonde hair swept across his forehead and the largest lips Santana had ever seen on a white-skinned human, and the third darker complexioned, bearing only a strip of dark hair running from the top of his head to the nape of his neck and wearing a sleeveless T-shirt to emphasize the size of his arms.

"The tall one is Finn." Rachel pointed. "He's very talented, and very sweet. He's had a crush on me since the Glee Club started, but I'm not interested in him. He keeps asking me out, though, in the hope that his persistence will wear me down." She pointed to the blonde-haired boy. "That's Sam. He's also very talented. He and his family have endured some difficult times, but they've come through it very well. You should see him with his little brother and sister." Then her nose wrinkled in distaste as she saw the boy with the strange haircut leering at Quinn, who was holding hands with Brittany and trying to ignore him. "And _that..._ is Noah Puckerman, Puck for short. Actually a very good person and quite proficient with a guitar, but he insists on behaving as though he's God's gift to women when he so clearly isn't. Honestly, the way he looks at Quinn is just gross. Everyone knows she's with Brittany, but he won't stop. Worse, he's got a girlfriend, and if she walks in here and sees him looking at Quinn like that _again,_ she's likely to put him in the hospital."

"Puckerman!" an angry voice bellowed across the room. Santana turned to look at the large young woman with glasses and a look of pure rage on her round face standing in the doorway with her hands on her substantial hips.

The room went deathly quiet as Puck froze in place, the color draining from his face, under the menacing glare of the angry girl in the doorway.

"Babe - " he began to plead when the girl stomped across the room and up the riser to where he sat behind Quinn and Brittany, who had turned around in their seats to watch the fireworks up close. Quinn smiled a thin smile at him as if to say, _I warned you this would happen if you didn't stop._

"Don't _babe_ me, Puckerman. How many times do I have to beat the lesson into you before you finally learn?" she snarled into his face. "I'm more than enough woman for any guy in this school, _especially_ you, Mr. I Had to Teach You How to Kiss. Stop perving on Fabgay and her pet unicorn already. _Got it?"_

"But I -" he tried again. The girl responded by twisting the collar of his T-shirt in her meaty fists and leaning in close enough to put the tip of her nose right up to his.

"I'm only going to say this one more time, and slower, so that _maybe_ you'll understand it: _Leave. Quinn. And. Brittany. Alone._ Got it?"

Santana's shoulders shook with silent laughter, while Rachel held both hands over her mouth to silence her own giggles. Tina had her head buried in Mike's shoulder, hiding her face in his shirt, her body trembling with barely suppressed mirth. Artie was actually biting one of his gloved fists to stifle the howl of laughter straining to escape.

Kurt looked on with mild disdain, however. He disliked the hulking girl who looked poised to throw Puck halfway across the room, but on the other hand, he thought the boy had it coming to him. Mercedes merely rolled her eyes and focused her attention on the celebrity gossip website she'd pulled up on her smart phone's Web browser.

"Okay, okay!" Puck finally exclaimed. "I'm sorry, all right? Still new to this exclusive relationship thing. Quinn, Britt – I won't bother you guys anymore. Can't promise I won't _think_ about you, though -"

"That's it, Puckerman! Prepare to eat floor tile!" the furious girl yelled, hauling the boy up to his feet, obviously fed up with his antics.

Just as Puck closed his eyes, resigning himself to his fate, a new voice spoke up.

"Hey, Lauren! Stop! That's enough! He gets it, okay? Put him down."

The girl dropped Puck to the ground like a sack of potatoes and spun around to face her new challenger with surprising speed for her size.

"Rachel! What are you doing?" Quinn hissed, her eyes wide with fear. Santana made no move to stop her petite charge. She needed to see if the girl was truly capable of standing her ground in the face of overwhelming odds.

"Really? You want some of this too, Berry? Fine. I'll pencil you in on my dance card right after I've finished with my idiot boyfriend here," Lauren growled, an evil smirk of delight creasing her pinched visage.

"You know I detest violence, Lauren. I will not have you dirty our performance space with Noah's – or anyone else's – blood today, or any day. You've made your point. Now, I suggest you sit down, or -"

Lauren barked a short laugh of contempt. "Or _what_ , Berry? You'll _sing_ me to death?"

Rachel glared at the girl. "No. I'll have Coach Beiste remove you from this room and insist to Mr. Schue that you are banned from all future Glee Club activities. You see, as much scorn and derision as you like to level at this group and everyone in it, I happen to know you secretly love it. What was it I overheard you telling Noah the other day? Oh, yes – _Glee is the best part of my day. Repeat that to anyone, and I'll break your pretty little face."_

Lauren's face scrunched up in disgust, her beady eyes nearly disappearing.

" _Fine._ This stupid club is lame, anyway. It's bringing down my rep. Later, losers." She stomped down from the riser and out of the room, to the very audible sigh of relief from her now presumably former boyfriend, who waited a couple of extra moments to make sure that she was gone before reclaiming his seat, pointedly _not_ looking at Quinn and Brittany.

" _Dude,"_ Finn broke the silence, oblivious (as always) to the seriousness of the moment. "You got _owned."_

Puck shot him a murderous look, but before he could say anything in reply, there came a knock at the door frame, and everyone's eyes focused there to take in the tall, slender frame of a girl with long brown hair, a purple beret, a simple turtleneck sweater, a pair of tight, worn jeans and even more worn sneakers.

"I'm Marley Rose. Mr. Schuester said this is where the Glee Club meets?" Her voice was uncertain. She bit her lip shyly as she looked into the room, as though she was searching for something...or _someone_.

Rachel caught the way Marley's eyes focused suddenly on Santana, and how she smiled a small, secret smile at her. The cold flame of jealousy instantly sprang to life inside Rachel, burning in her chest. She didn't know who this Rose girl was, but if she thought she was getting anywhere near Santana, she had another thing coming.

When Santana's eyes met Marley's, they went wide. Her mind reeled, and her heart raced.

 _A Holy Priestess of the White Dragon Order?_ _ **Here?**_ _Now? Why?_


	7. Chapter 7

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter six**

 _We are the Visited._

 _We hear the stirrings. The whispers of old voices, echoes of the past, of the future. Of many pasts, many futures. Time dances on a string, unfurls in a gale, streaming around and past us. Something awakes in us. We are memories made flesh. We grasp the thread, pull it tight, anchor it to ourselves and to the world._

 _We are the Visited._

 _The minds of our ancestors speak to us, bid us to rise. We who were less than whole, incomplete, now find within us what was missing all along. Ancient truth sings in our blood. The blessed White Dragon's wings curl around us, shielding us. The light of Her fire shows us the way to our destiny._

 _We are the Visited._

 _We sleep no more. We are awakened. We chant in time with the roar and the rumble, our souls soar and swoop through cloud and sky. We are the Servants of the Dragon. We hear, and we serve. Praise eye and claw, sing of the flight and the flame._

 _We are the Visited._

The chanting fades. The dimly lit room sinks into near-silence. Candles flicker, tongues of flame darting out to lap at the still, heavy air.

"Blessed be the White Dragon," intones the woman standing behind the massive white stone altar. She holds a long staff of exquisitely carved pure white wood in her left hand, and a slender, wickedly sharp dagger of black steel in the others. Shifting runes carved into both can be seen when the light flares, but they are blurred, indistinct, illegible to the eyes of all in the room save the priestess who wields them.

"Blessed be," the gathered respond.

"We gather here in Dragonshadow to pledge ourselves once again in service to our ancient Guardians. We know our time draws near. Soon the dragons will fly again. Will you be ready?" the priestess asks. She looks down at the handsome, curly haired man kneeling on the floor before her. "Brother William?"

"I will be ready, Lady Rose."

"Sister Emma? What say you, gentle one?"

"I will be ready, Lady Rose," the slight, pretty young woman answers, all large eyes and flaming red hair. She tucks a stray lock behind a subtly pointed ear and smiles.

"And you, Sister Shannon? You, who stride among us with the blood of the old Giants in her veins? Will you be ready to honor the vows of your people's memory?"

The large woman's voice rumbles. "I remember, on the ancestors' behalf. We were ever allied with the Dragons. So it remains. I will be ready."

The priestess smiles wide. The candlelight dances in her deep blue eyes, shines in her long, dark hair.

"Brother Burt? You come from the line of the ancient builders, forgers, makers. You remember what was done before. You know what must be done again. I ask you, when the long night descends upon us, will you be there?"

"I swear upon my son, whom I love more than life – I will be there," the man responds, removing the hat from his head to cover his heart with it.

"What of you, Sister Judy? Your husband -"

" _Former_ husband -" Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, then drop just as quickly. Her skin heats. She hangs her head, signaling her contrition. "Apologies, priestess. I – I meant no offense."

"Firstly, you will address me as Lady Rose," the dark-haired priestess warns. Her voice is soft, but edged like the dagger she carries. "Secondly, no apologies are needed, as you have given no offense. I know full well the pain your former husband has caused you. I also know that the darkness that lived within him has not touched you, or your fair daughter."

"No, my lady – er, I mean, Lady Rose. It has not. The mercy of the Dragon saved me, and my Quinn. When the long night arrives, I will be ready. By wing and claw, I will."

"That is well." She pauses. Her eyes cloud over for a moment. The graceful movements of her body still. She blinks, and the clouds are gone, the radiance returned. Her white robe shimmers, drinks in the candlelight, reflecting it back twofold, as though she is a torch in the darkness.

"We will be joined by others soon. Our number will grow. The ranks of the Visited increase as memory awakes. The Protector has extended her wing around the girl-child Rachel Berry, whose power already begins to stir. I have felt this. She is strong. She will be stronger. She will have to be, when the long night comes. We have our parts to play. We must be ready."

The priestess places the staff and the dagger on the altar, rests her hands beside them.

"Brother Will. Tell me how Rachel has been progressing."

Will raises his eyes. "Lady. Rachel has grown tremendously. Her voice...it's like nothing I have ever heard before. The glee club grows closer every time she sings. They believe in her."

"The girl is extraordinary," Shannon agrees. "It makes me feel light to hear her, and that is no easy task."

"I would like to see her."

"The Protector is with her now," Emma says. "Is it wise to reveal yourself so soon?"

"Truthfully, I do not know." Lady Rose sighs, shakes her head softly. She is oblivious to the way her beauty holds the others in thrall, the way they hang upon every word she speaks. "The dragon Santana and I...we know each other quite well. She may not understand my presence here, the role I must play in all of this. Or why it is important that I see Rachel, get to know her. But what must be done, must be done. It is clear."

The beautiful young priestess gestures with one hand, palm up, silently signaling for all to rise.

Will clears his throat. "Lady – if you wish to see Rachel, come to our Glee meeting this afternoon in the choir room. I'm sure she has a song prepared. She usually does."

"Thank you, Brother William." She smiles at the teacher, noting the way Emma smiles at him as well. "I will do that. I would very much like to hear her sing. It would do a great deal to lift my spirit, I think. Did you know that I know my way around a tune as well?"

His eyes widen, but there is no surprise in them. He knows the woman before him is capable of a great many things.

Her smile grows. She laughs softly, and it's like the sound of the wind sighing through the grass. "Yes, it's true. I may spend more time chanting than singing these days, and more time among dragons than humans, but I have not forgotten all the pleasures of life beyond my responsibilities to the Holy Order of the White Dragon."

"Then I look forward to seeing you at the meeting later."

"I look forward to it also, William. And now, you must all be...elsewhere." The priestess gestures again. Light flares, filling the room. When the flash is gone, she is alone. Alone with her thoughts, and a song in her mind. She retrieves the staff and dagger from the altar, holds them close. She hums as she ascends the few steps to the dais behind the altar, shrugs out of her silken robe, the honored raiment of her order. Her skin prickles with the sudden exposure to the cool air. With a flick of the wrist, a floor-to-ceiling window appears where the wall had been. She stands in the sunlight that streams in through the clear glass, warm and invigorating. The window opens. She smiles. Her pearlescent teeth gleam.

No one notices the magnificent white dragon that flies over McKinley High School, dancing in air.

* * *

Rachel sat and fumed while Marley and Santana locked eyes. The tall, beautiful, blue-eyed brunette glided into the room as though she owned it, crossing the expansive floor seemingly without her feet even touching it. Looking around, Rachel saw the other Glee Clubbers watching Marley in awe, all wide eyes and dropped jaws. Even the normally cynical and suspicious Quinn followed the girl's movements with rapt attention, which served to infuriate Rachel still further.

Before she could say anything, Mr. Schuester walked in, unfashionably late as usual. "Hey, guys," he said as he placed his bag down on the floor next to the piano, where Brad the accompanist sat, silent and expressionless as always. "Today we're going to welcome a guest performer -"

Marley turned to look at him and smiled that warm, dazzling, toothy smile. The man actually _blushed,_ as though he were a student himself and not a teacher. Rachel fought to tamp down the rage boiling inside her. _What would Ms. Pillsbury say if she saw him like this?_ she thought.

"Hi, Mr. Schue," said Marley, her voice all shy and sweet and lilting. Everyone looked like they were about to fall out of their chairs at the sound of it, even Artie.

"Marley! You're here already?" Mr. Schuester shook his head slightly, as though a room full of students who had arrived before him was something he'd never seen before. "Great! Have you introduced yourself to the group?"

"Yes," Marley replied. "Although it looks like you may have lost a member. Some big girl with glasses came storming out of here just before I came in." She frowned at the memory.

"Yeah," Puck said. "Lauren's gone. She was just about to attack me when Rachel distracted her, thus sparing her from a Puckasaurus beatdown."

"More like sparing _you_ from being pounded into paste," Quinn shot back. "She's a _wrestler,_ Puck. She outweighs you by a hundred pounds, at least. We'd be scraping you up off the floor right now if Rachel hadn't spoken up when she did."

"Truth," Artie said, raising his hand and bobbing his head.

"She's right, dude," Sam chimed in. "Maybe you should, you know, say _thank you_ or something."

Puck squirmed in his chair. This was so not his day. "Aw, come on, you guys. You all know how awesome I think my Jewish Princess is. I'm sure she knows that I appreciate her sticking up for me, even though I totally had the situation under control."

"Well, that's probably about as close to an actual expression of gratitude as I'm going to get, so you're welcome, Noah," Rachel said dryly, trying to force herself to remain calm in the midst of all this drama. "It's nice to know that you appreciate my efforts. That is not always the case around here."

The room erupted in a discussion of the Lauren / Puck incident. Marley and Santana both looked at Mr. Schue, expecting him to take control of things and get everyone to quiet down. Rachel felt a tingle up her spine as she found herself able to see a pair of thin tendrils of magic, one originating from Santana, one from Marley, criss-crossing the room, appearing to end at the man's feet. The teacher took a deep breath, and Rachel knew that the magic was meant to enable his urgent voice to be projected over the group's excited, angry babble.

"Guys! Guys, come on! That's enough! ENOUGH!"

Stunned, as though a huge thunderclap had sounded, the group abruptly silenced itself.

"Thank you," Mr. Schuester said, his face and jaw set tight, his shoulders coiled with tension. "Now. While I'm sorry that Lauren has left us, we have other, more important matters to discuss. Such as our set list for Sectionals. Does anyone have any songs they'd like to perform as suggestions?" He looked at Rachel expectantly. Everyone else's eyes followed.

For the first time since Marley had appeared, Rachel smiled. _She may be tall and beautiful, but she can't sing like me._

"I do have something prepared, in fact," she said, hopping down from her seat to take her usual position in front of the piano.

Mr. Schue gestured for Marley to cede the floor to Rachel, and the girl took Lauren's vacated seat next to Puck. The boy stared at her as though she was something he had never seen before and couldn't even comprehend. Rachel's eyes narrowed at this, but she took some pleasure in noticing that Santana's eyes were focused only upon her, and not the new girl who had just invaded their room out of nowhere. She turned and whispered to Brad, who nodded affirmatively. Then she made her way over to where the band stood at attention, and they nodded as well.

"This is a song about the greatest city in the world, a place where I am going to live one day."

 _Some folks like to get away, take a holiday from the neighborhood_

 _Hop a flight to Miami Beach or to Hollywood_

 _But I'm takin' a Greyhound on the Hudson River line_

 _I'm in a New York state of mind_

Images of skyscrapers and brightly lit Broadway marquees filled Rachel's mind as she sang in a voice filled with passion and longing, swept away as she always was by the music, and by the dream that had propelled her life for as long as she could remember.

 _I've seen all the movie stars in their fancy cars and their limousines_

 _Been high in the Rockies, under the evergreens_

 _I know what I'm needin' – and I don't want to waste more time_

 _I'm in a New York state of mind_

Suddenly she was jarred from her thoughts by the realization that someone was singing along with her. It was an unfamiliar voice, one that didn't belong to anyone else in the club, a voice that was nearly as smooth and powerful as her own, and quite remarkable, although she was loath to admit it. When she opened her eyes, she saw Marley gliding down the riser and walking toward her as though she'd been invited. She wanted to be angry, but their voices sounded so good together that the desire slipped away from her, superseded by the desire to hear just how far they could go.

 _It was so easy, livin' day by day – out of touch with the rhythm and blues_

 _But now I need a little give and take – the New York Times, the Daily News_

Marley smiled at her, and Rachel felt compelled, without understanding why, to let the newcomer take the lead on the next verse.

 _It comes down to reality – and it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide_

 _I don't care if it's Chinatown or on Riverside_

 _I don't have any reasons – I've left them all behind_

 _I'm in a New York state of mind_

Rachel joined in once more, and their voices blended again in perfect harmony on the last two lines.

 _I'm just taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River line_

 _I'm in a New York state of mind._

She had never found it so easy, so effortless, to sing a duet like this before. Yes, she had enjoyed singing with Quinn, and Tina, and even Puck before, but this was like nothing she had ever experienced. A quick glance at the rest of the club, along with Santana and Mr. Schue, showed her that they were every bit as enraptured as she felt.

After a moment of deafening silence, the room erupted in cheers and applause, and she found herself wrapped in Santana's arms while the rest of the club surged toward her and Marley to congratulate them on a truly extraordinary performance.

"You were amazing," Santana whispered, and Rachel felt a tear travel down her cheek as she felt the dragon-girl tighten their embrace. She felt as though something far more important than a performance had just taken place, but she couldn't name what it was if she tried.

 _She is more than worthy,_ Marley's voice spoke in Santana's mind. _Guard her. Protect her with your life and soul. I had no doubt before, but now...now I know just what she will be. She is the Phoenix of the Risen Song. She is magic incarnate._

She broke off the connection before Santana could respond, because she didn't want her to hear the sadness that colored her next thought.

 _And she will be what I once was: the one you love._

* * *

 **A/N: Although this should be obvious, I do not own these characters or the song used in the chapter. Thank you for reading, and for all the follows, favorites and reviews this story has received so far. Please feel free to review this chapter, and to send me a PM to discuss it, the story as a whole, anything you like (or dislike), what you might like to see, or even just to chat.**


	8. Chapter 8

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter seven**

Rachel and Santana stood outside the doors of McKinley after all the Glee Club members, and just about all the other inhabitants of the school, had left for the day, each feeling strangely unsure of herself, as though Marley's out-of-nowhere appearance had somehow shifted the ground beneath them. Rachel was still confused by the warring emotions of jealousy and admiration towards Marley that she had been experiencing practically since her first sight of the girl, while Santana was plagued with questions about why Marley was there at all and not back at the dragons' Skyhome, and what her presence meant.

"Well, it's been a very _interesting_ day, hasn't it?" Rachel said, blowing out an exasperated sigh, annoyed with herself for being so out of sorts. She tried to smile at Santana, but her lips refused to curl upwards, instead tightening into a thin line.

Santana was equally unsettled, albeit for different reasons. Yet she knew that part of her role as protector included keeping Rachel's spirits up, so she hid her own confusion as best she could and tried to lighten the mood with a joke. "Of course it has. After all, it's not often that you meet an awesome bad-ass chick who _also_ happens to be a super cool dragon, right?"

Rachel laughed in spite of herself. "This is true." Then she sighed again, looking down at her feet, to one direction, then the other, avoiding Santana's concerned gaze. She knew somehow that Santana could almost see inside her, like she had the ability to just tell what she was thinking, without anything being said. It should have felt reassuring, but instead it made her oddly uncomfortable.

"Hey. Tiny. Listen," Santana ventured, her voice gentle. Once Rachel lifted her eyes, she continued. "I know things seemed weird with Marley, but...look, I can't say too much about her - but I can tell you that she can be trusted."

Rachel stomped her foot, huffing in annoyance.

"How do you _do_ that? Just – just _know_ what I'm thinking like that? And meanwhile, I can't tell how _you're_ feeling at all? It's...it's... _unfair,_ is what it is!" she fumed. "And why can't you say anything about her? What is she, some kind of dragon secret? I thought I was _important_ to you, Santana – but apparently not, if you can't tell me why you were staring at her in the choir room as though you were looking at a ghost."

Santana bowed her head, eyes closed, pinched the bridge of her nose as though she felt a headache coming on.

Her voice was soft, but edged with pain, the pain of a memory she'd had no wish to recall, when she spoke again. "Because, Rachel...as far as I was concerned, she _was_ a ghost. I never thought I would ever see her again."

"What? Santana, why -" Rachel began, bringing her hand up to touch Santana's cheek, but the dragon-girl gently intercepted her wrist and cut her off.

" _No_ ," she rasped, her eyes suddenly hard and cold for a moment. Then her expression softened, and she let Rachel's hand drop, not missing the look of hurt on the smaller girl's face. "I'm sorry, Rachel, but I...I can't. I _can't_ talk about her. It's been a long time, and a lot has happened, but...I just can't. Has – hasn't there ever been someone in your life that really meant a lot to you, and then something happened and suddenly everything changed?"

Rachel thought for a moment, feeling the echo of an old ache as she reached back into her memory, recalling close friends she'd had through elementary school who had abandoned her in junior high as the popularity they sought required them to leave Rachel behind. She'd been devastated time and again as one friend after another changed themselves to fit in with the crowd even as Rachel steadfastly refused to do the same. It was painful to relive those feelings, even dulled as they were by time, and she supposed she wouldn't want to talk about them either.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "More someones than I care to admit, actually. So...you don't have to tell me about it – about _her –_ now _,_ Santana. But...promise me one thing? Please?"

Santana simply nodded in response, half-lost in her own memories.

"Promise me that you _will_ tell me, one day. Because if she's important to whatever's going on with me, and you, and everything else you haven't told me about yet, then I'll need to know, eventually. Can...can you do that?"

There was something in Rachel's voice that broke through Santana's mental fog, something made her back straighten and her skin prickle when she felt it. It wasn't solely the emotion in it, no; there was the inaudible but unmistakable vibration, so soft that none but the most attuned would sense it, of power. The power to erase fear, cleanse doubt, heighten focus and clarity. The power of command.

Power that could shake the world, when shaped into music.

A shiver tickled Santana's spine with icy fingers. This was the second time she had felt the barest touch of Rachel's potential, and it made her shudder to think of what the girl would eventually be able to do, once she was able to understand and harness her power.

"I swear to you, Rachel, I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything...just not now, okay?" She raised her arms above her head, stretching wearily, feeling her small, light bones slide beneath her soft skin and taut sinews. By the First Egg, she needed to shift and let her wings and scales feel the air rush against them again.

Rachel pursed her lips. "Okay. Fair enough." She looked at her watch. "And now I think we really should be heading home. My fathers will be home from work in a couple of hours, and I've got homework to do, so let's start walking."

" _Walking?_ " Santana's mouth curled into a sardonic grin. "Oh, no, no, no, tiny. I've got a much, much better idea."

Shadows gathered, as though the light was drawn out of the world, so that no one but Rachel would see, and in moments, where a girl had once been, a dragon stood in its place.

 _Ah! Gods, but that feels good._

Rachel giggled. "I'm sure it does."

Santana's great head and shimmering eyes angled down towards the tiny singer, and something like amusement filled the dragon's voice as it spoke in her mind.

 _You have_ _ **no**_ _idea. Now, please tell me you're not afraid of flying._

Laughing, Rachel hung her backpack from Santana's serpentine neck and climbed on. The dragon's scales were warm beneath her.

 _If you say 'up, up and away,' I'm dropping you into a tree. Just so you know._

"I would never say that."

 _Good._

"However, I _would_ say, 'Onward, noble steed!'"

Santana's silence told the girl what she thought of _that._

Then the wind banished all thoughts from both their minds as they flew.

* * *

And elsewhere, in another place, one without boundaries, borders, definitions, a place that would be perceived by all but the most knowing eyes as merely a gray, swirling haze on the edge of our existence, there was a ripple of something that the entity ensconced within it had not felt in several thousand years when Rachel's power touched it: _fear._ A soundless, wordless scream of fury roiled the gray haze, and it curled in on itself in its rage and hate, sending out waves of force to hammer yet again against the spell that had stood in place for millennia, keeping it immobile and impotent and unable to wreak the havoc that was its sole purpose to create, denying its vengeance against the universe that had birthed it.

And the tiny crack it had managed to create over the course of a thousand, then a thousand more years, lengthened still further, widened still more. The fear, the sharp, stabbing pain of it, ebbed away, faded, consumed, as all things were, in the face of its overwhelming spite.

If the thing that lived there had possessed a mouth, it would have smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter eight**

 _ **interlude one**_

In their dreams they hear singing.

The voice is strangely familiar, the voice of someone they know and trust and admire, and somehow...not. It's richer, fuller, containing even more depth of expression, more power and passion than the one they've heard before. It soars, it swoops, it dives through skies of emotion, sails upon waves of inflection in a way none of them have ever imagined was even possible. It envelops their sleeping subconsciousness, enters their souls, fills their hearts and minds, banishing their cares and worries, giving them a sense of strength and hope unlike anything they've ever known in their lives.

When they awake the next morning, they can't remember the words or even the melody, but they all know that they've heard something that has changed them forever. It's as though they've traveled to some higher plane, tuned themselves to a frequency only they can hear, and when they get ready for school, they're all humming tunelessly to a song they can't possibly know has existed since time itself began.

 _ **interlude two**_

There is an assassin in the halls of McKinley High.

No one is aware of this, of course. It's an invisible, noiseless, imperceptible shadow lurking within other shadows, hiding in corners, on ceilings, in tiny cracks on the walls, gliding across the floors like oil, or a thin layer of ice. But it's there, waiting, coiled and deadly as a snake lying in tall grass, and its sole purpose is to serve its creator by killing on command. It is the cold finger of oblivion, malicious as a curved blade, silent as the heart of a black hole, and a hunger for death seethes within it. Its very presence makes the building itself tremble in fear and dread.

It is the first harbinger of the Nil.

 _ **\- end interludes -**_

Santana was waiting for Rachel outside her house bright and early after spending the night back at her cavern in Skyhome. She filed her nails, practicing her look of boredom and indifference, as she anticipated the girl's bouncing steps out the front door. The house and property were large and immaculately kept, all white siding and green grass.

What she did not anticipate was the voice of a man calling to her from that door.

"Hello," he called, his voice soft and unthreatening, obviously not wanting to scare her.

Her head snapped up, and her eyes met the very curious gazes of two adult males standing in the doorway, one tall and wearing bookish round glasses, the other shorter with a curly head of hair and a slight frown at the corners of his mouth. The taller one was dressed in an elegant charcoal gray business suit, while the other wore a white shirt, blue tie and khaki pants under a long white lab coat.

"Are you...a friend of our daughter's?" he asked, and she saw that it was the shorter one speaking.

"Because if you're not," the taller one said, his voice deeper and more authoritative, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave our property now. There are laws against loitering on private property, you know."

Santana blinked, not at all certain how to respond to this unforeseen circumstance, berating herself silently for having not foreseen it when she knew she damned well should have. She was about to reply to the men when Rachel's voice cut through the tension like the cry of a morning bird.

"Dad! Daddy! That is my friend Santana Lopez. She's new at school, and you are _not_ making a good impression on her at all."

Santana smiled at the diminutive girl's rebuke of her much taller fathers even as they turned to each other with disbelieving looks.

" _We_ have to make a good impression on _her?"_ the tall one said wryly, clearly as amused by his daughter's audaciousness as Santana was. "I'm sorry to break the news to you, sweetheart, but it actually works the other way around, even for teenagers. _You_ have to make a good impression on _us_ before we let you just hang out on our front lawn. Back me up on this, LeRoy, would you?"

The shorter man nodded. "He's right, sweetheart. Perks and privileges of adulthood and all that. At least that's what it said when I got my membership letter."

Rachel appeared between them, smiling, clearly enjoying the banter. "Please excuse my fathers, Santana. They've already had far too much caffeine this morning and aren't in their right minds."

Santana laughed as she walked to the door and extended her hand for one of the men to shake. "Hello, Misters Berry. As Rachel said, I'm Santana. Very pleased to meet you, sirs."

Hiram Berry raised an eyebrow as he peered down through his glasses at the beautiful Latina girl who had apparently befriended his daughter and shook her hand, surprised at the firmness of her grip. "Did you hear that, LeRoy? This one's got manners. I like it," he quipped.

"Daddy!" Rachel exclaimed, smacking her father's arm lightly, trying and failing not to giggle.

"What? It's true," LeRoy said, shaking Santana's hand as well.

"Would you like to come in, Santana? Maybe have some breakfast, orange juice, cottage cheese, a muffin, anything?"

Santana smiled, knowing there was really no way to explain to these men that dragons, as creatures of magic, had no need to eat breakfast, or any other meal. They had transcended the need for that kind of sustenance a long time ago.

"Thank you, Mister Berry, but -" she began, but stopped when Hiram shook his head and LeRoy frowned. "What?"

"Mister Berry was LeRoy's father, may he rest in peace. Please, call us Hiram and LeRoy. That way we don't feel older than we already are, and we don't have to both look up at once when you say 'Mister Berry.' Okay?"

LeRoy nodded his affirmation of Hiram's declaration when Santana looked to him, so she simply replied, "Okay." Rachel beamed affectionately at her, and then up at her fathers.

At that, the shorter man looked at his watch and said, "Well, this has been lovely, but you girls need to get to school, and we adult types have to get to work, so I suggest we all scoot." He made a shooing motion with his hands, at which Rachel rolled her eyes. This drew a laugh from Santana, who decided she liked the two men a lot. Of course, she'd expected to like them, because, honestly, how could anyone not like the people who'd raised someone as extraordinary as Rachel?

"Yes, I agree. Let's go, tiny." Santana didn't miss the way Rachel slipped her hand into hers, nor did she mind it one bit.

"Have a good day at school, girls!" they heard LeRoy call after them as they began to walk off in the direction of McKinley High. Rachel didn't turn around, just projected a "Bye, Dads!" into the air, and a moment or two later they heard the sound of two cars starting up and then exiting the driveway of the Berry house.

"Your dads are really nice," Santana ventured as Rachel bounced alongside her, clad in her signature animal sweater – this morning it was a fluffy white blue-eyed cat – and short skirt ensemble with knee socks and flats, walking with perfect posture despite the weight of her pink backpack.

"You certainly charmed them in no time," Rachel replied, smiling amid the warming Lima morning air. "They're very protective of me, and usually more than a little suspicious, which I guess makes them a little intimidating when friends meet them at first. It took Kurt months to stop calling them 'Mr. Berry,' despite their repeated insistence that it was perfectly all right for him to do so." She paused in thought for a moment. "I don't think I've ever seen them warm up to anyone as quickly as they did with you."

"What can I say? I'm irresistible," Santana shrugged nonchalantly, drawing a laugh and a playful shove to the shoulder from Rachel.

They carried on this way for most of the walk to the school, laughing, smiling and bantering back and forth until Santana started to feel a sense of unease that increased the closer they got to the building. A headache began to build behind her eyes, and she knew it instantly for what it was: a sign of danger. Immediate, terrible danger. She released Rachel's hand and allowed her talons and fangs to show. Her eyes changed color. Rachel felt Santana's body stiffen and her skin go cold in the instant before the changes occurred.

"Santana? What – what's wrong?" she asked the taller girl, suddenly feeling a chill herself.

"There's something in there. Something very old, very powerful, and very, very bad. Something that wants us both dead."

Rachel's eyes widened, and then her hands flew to her mouth as though she was about to be sick. "Oh my – oh, God, I can _feel_ it! It...it wants us to come inside, and if...if we don't...it will destroy the school and - and kill everybody in the building." Santana looked at her, startled. "Don't ask me how I know that, Santana. I...just trust me."

"Which means the longer we wait to go in, the more people will enter, not knowing the danger." Santana's face was a hard mask of fury and disgust at whatever the entity inside the school was. Truth be told, she was beginning to feel more than a little queasy herself at the malevolent power that was rolling off the school in waves.

"My friends – the Glee Club – they have no idea what's in there! Quinn, and Brittany, and Kurt, and Tina, and Mercedes – they could all _die,"_ Rachel cried in anguish. "We have to go in there – we...we have to save them, Santana. Please."

Grimly, the dragon-girl turned to grasp Rachel by the shoulders, careful to retract her talons first before looking her square in the eyes.

"This isn't the way I wanted your first lesson in using your power to go. It was all supposed to be slow and incremental, your training, but now...well, now that plan is all blown to hell. So now you've got to listen to me, and listen _very_ carefully, because I don't think we're going to get more than one shot at this. You understand?"

Rachel could do little more than nod, her stomach roughly twisted into a knot of pain. "What...what do I need to do?" she managed to hiss out.

"I'm going to teach you a song, and then you're going to sing it. You're going to sing it loud, as loud as you can, louder than you've ever sung anything before in your life. You're going to put everything you have into it, every last ounce of strength you've got, and you're going to _project_ the hell out of it. Got it?"

Rachel was incredulous. "We're going to fight whatever...whatever that _thing_ is with a _song?"_

"Yes, Rachel," Santana replied simply.

"You're insane!" the tiny singer recoiled in horror, but Santana's grip didn't let her flinch. "This – this is all insane! There's no _time,_ Santana! I don't intend to spend another second out here while people I care about, people I _love,_ could die at any moment in there, so if you could _please_ let me go, I -"

Santana cut off Rachel's impassioned plea with a narrowing of her eyes and a forceful NO! in her mind.

 _This is the only way. I am your Protector. You have to trust me, Rachel. Trust_ yourself. _You have the power to end this. You just have to let me show you how to use it._

Shaking and sweating and so terrified that Santana's strong hands were the only things keeping her upright, Rachel swallowed hard and fought down her fear.

 _I – I'm ready now. Show me._

Santana exhaled, letting loose the breath she'd been holding as she'd waited for Rachel to get herself together.

 _This is a song you've never heard before. It's a song no human has ever heard before, actually. It's a song of the Dragon kin, a song about showing courage and honor and valor in the face of unspeakable horror and tragedy. I'm going to project it directly into your mind, and as I do, I want you to think of all the people in there that you love. Think of how much you care about them, how much you want them to live and achieve all their dreams. Think of how you want them to be brave and strong and fearless no matter whatever's in there with them. Sing this song for them, Rachel, and they will be. They'll be all that, and more. Sing, and believe, and it will happen._

Rachel closed her eyes and braced herself. Then her mouth flew open as the words and melodies came to her, stirring the magic inside her, igniting a power older than she could even begin to comprehend, yet had been hers since the day she was born.

 _Yes. I see now. Thank you, Santana._

And then she began to sing. The ground beneath them quaked and shuddered as though they were standing on a fault line, threatening to crack open and send them tumbling down into the depths of the earth itself. But Santana would not let her go, and they stayed in place.

The harbinger let forth a sound that would be like laughter, if horror itself could laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter nine**

It felt as though the world was breaking apart all around them. Waves of malefic power emanated from the high school building, assaulting Santana, bending and warping reality around her and Rachel. Street signs drooped like dying flowers, and trees burst into columns of flame, leaves whirling off them to become tiny, menacing stars of flame, or deadly arrows, or – worst of all – dark, red-eyed bats with long fangs that dripped green poison. Santana shifted into her dragon form instantly, shielding Rachel with her wings and scales, knocking away everything that flew through the air at them to land on the ground around them and melt into sizzling pools of dark, viscous liquid before disappearing entirely.

Still she held Rachel in place with her eyes as the girl sang with tears of pure radiance leaving shining tracks down her angelic face. Her voice was crystalline, ethereal, and so loud that it was as if no other sound existed in the world. It sounded like her, and yet not – it was her voice laced through with magic, augmented by a power not seen in the world for more years than even dragons cared to count. It would have been terrifying if it were not so beautiful.

Santana felt Rachel trembling and shuddering with the power coursing through her small body even as her heart swelled with emotion at the charged words of her song. It was a dragonish hymn, a cry for peace in the heart of war, a bright light in the darkness of fear and chaos, and Santana had known it since she was a hatchling.

 _Sing, send your heart soaring in flight_

 _Banish the night with the light of your flame_

 _Spread your wings wide to catch the wind of justice_

 _Take hold of your hearts, let none fall in vain_

 _Gather your courage, fly fast and strong_

 _Stare fate in the eye, sing loud and sing long_

 _Hold fast, never falter, never fear, never doubt_

 _Quicken your pace, turn your face, let your voice ring out_

 _Into the night, be a light_

 _In the darkness, let your cry of hope_

 _Be a beacon to all_

 _Never waver, never fear, never fall_

 _Though the dark may be frightening_

 _Though the peril be great_

 _Let your spirit blaze like lightning,_

 _Let love conquer hate!_

 _When the dawn sends shadows fleeing_

 _When the morning breaks true_

 _Send your song high, rend the sky_

 _Sing for each other, for me and for you_

 _Sing for the fallen, the brave and the bold_

 _Sing for the young who will never grow old_

 _Sing for love, sing for beauty, sing for truth_

 _Sing for those who sing no more, for the aged and the youth_

 _Let your tears fall as you sing, to the ground where they lay_

 _Let them anoint the bodies as their spirits speed away_

 _Let not the hate that brought them low_

 _Keep them from flying high, oh_

 _Let them soar, ever more_

 _To our home beyond the sky!_

* * *

Inside the building, to say there was chaos would be to gravely understate things. Minds were being torn apart by the warring forces converging on the place. The harbinger lashed out indiscriminately as Rachel's power beat at it, trying desperately to keep hold of the pain and fear that fed its strength, and teachers, students and staff all found themselves brought to their knees and crying out in agony when the harbinger's power touched them. Students' heads battered themselves into lockers and their hands smashed into bathroom mirrors, teachers' bodies were scalded as coffee pots exploded and hot water gushed from faucets. Principal Figgins cowered in a corner, curled into a fetal position, praying to a god far younger than those the dragons knew, back when gods actually trod the soil of the world they helped create.

And yet, as Rachel's power surged forward and her song shook the walls of McKinley High, there were those who heard it on an even deeper level, felt it change them into something they'd always thought they could be, if only the magic existed to let them.

Noah "Puck" Puckerman felt himself grow taller and stronger somehow, as the words of Rachel's song took hold. Taller and stronger and filled with a thirst for justice. His eyes sought out the harbinger's hiding place, and when he closed them, he wished for a weapon to wield against this nightmare-born evil. He felt his hand wrap around something large and heavy, and smiled when his eyes opened to see the black iron mace that fit his grasp as though he had been born to hold it. Then he stalked out into the chaos-filled hallway, leaving behind the classroom whose door had been torn from its hinges, away from the desks that had been overturned and flung against the walls as if they'd been hardly more than pillows.

Tina Cohen-Chang had often dreamed of being a sorceress, a beautiful, powerful woman with the very force that bound creation together at her fingertips. Many times in her dreams she he had seen herself rise into the air, walk with her feet not touching the floor, carrying a long, shining sword sheathed in a scabbard on her back, seen herself reach behind herself and pull it free effortlessly, the blade's length ablaze with magic, sending dark creatures scattering in fear and whispering its name: _Persuasion_. She laughed when she realized that this was no dream, now: this was really her, now, and when a wave of students in thrall to the harbinger launched itself at her, her laugh grew louder amidst the din when she saw that her sword cut not through their flesh, but through their very souls instead, freeing them and placing them under _her_ control. She used that control to send them fleeing from the building into the relative safety of the streets, where she hoped someone else was ready to protect them against whatever might be out there.

Artie Abrams knew his legs would never work again, no matter how much he wished they would. However, that didn't mean he couldn't borrow someone – or _something –_ else's legs, so when he found his wheelchair gone, and himself suddenly sitting astride a long-limbed unicorn, all he could do was shake his head and wonder what Brittany would have to say when she saw him. Then he found himself fisting his hands in the creature's white mane when a voice spoke in his mind: _Hold on, young mortal. You are mine now, and I will never let you fall._ And forward they flew, the silver horn standing straight out from the unicorn's head glowing with a light like nothing he had ever seen before, running into _the between,_ slipping into the space that divides space and time at a speed no human could ever comprehend, much less calculate – and straight towards where the harbinger was, for the unicorns never failed to find a destination once they had resolved to travel there.

Jumping and flying into the air, landing always on her feet, was a thing that came as easily as breathing to Brittany Pierce. It always had been, as long as she could remember. She was known by everyone – especially her fellow cheerleaders on the Cheerios – to be astonishingly agile, remarkably flexible, and completely fearless. Yet she had been afraid – _terrified,_ actually – until she recognized the words of the song she had heard in her dream, the words that drowned out the world and set her soul alight. The power of the music unlocked something inside her, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was leaping over the onrushing tide of crazed students and literally bouncing off the walls, evading the enthralled mob with ease. She twisted her body this way and that almost bonelessly as the hands that reached for her, trying to bring her down and trample her beneath their unknowing feet, ended up grasping only at air. It seemed like a game to her, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it was deadly serious, and that thought made her cat-like blue eyes narrow and her jaw set tight. _No one_ threatened her friends. She felt angry at imagining any of them being hurt by this – whatever this thing was – and if it had bothered to ask anyone in the school, it would have known that it was a very, very bad idea to make Brittany Pierce angry.

As it weakened, the harbinger began to reach into the building's foundations with the intention of bringing it all down, and then using the power that killing every last being in the place would give it, to destroy both the Protector and the Prophesied with one last, massive strike. However, while it was undeniably an entity of great power, its intellect, was limited, and so it failed to truly understand the aspect of Rachel's magic that was about to be its own undoing.

 _There are beings here that resist my power! How can this be? They are nothing – less than nothing – yet I cannot bend them to my will? Imposs -_

A blast of cold iron crashed into it before the thought could be completed.

"Hey! This is _my_ school, whatever the hell you are! And that means only _I_ get to mess it up!" Puck bellowed as he smashed the thing again, the impact sending a jolt up his arm and throughout his body. He had no idea how it was that he was even seeing it, much less hitting it; all he knew was that he felt as though he'd drunk about a thousand Red Bulls and acquired the strength of a bull – no, _ten_ bulls – and that pounding the crap out of evil was his new favorite thing to do.

The harbinger had thought itself invisible to these beings, but the pain – _pain! I have not felt its like in an age – but how? -_ disabused it of that notion.

Then, from its back, came a sharp, slashing, stabbing agony of a different sort, and it knew, from long dormant memories suddenly awakened, what had come for it.

 _One-horn!_ It snarled, speaking without a mouth, sickly green _un-light_ oozing from where the unicorn had done its damage. _I remember slaughtering a thousand of your kind with but a breath. A sweeter memory I cannot recall._

The unicorn flinched at this. Artie felt the muscles in its long, proud neck bunch with outrage, but its voice was as silky as the flowing mane he held twisted in his trembling fingers, and it held its head high and proud as it made its reply.

 _My kind will rejoice when you are destroyed, and they are avenged, this day._

Puck shook his head, trying to clear it of the voices reverberating in his skull. He wasn't a guy who liked to talk a lot. He liked _action,_ and a lot of it. So he charged the wounded harbinger and swung the mace again, shouting as he did.

The entity's awareness sensed his attack this time, and a blast of force sent Puck sprawling, crashing into the wall behind him, leaving him dazed for a moment.

And in that moment, Tina appeared literally out of the air right in front of the harbinger, and _Persuasion_ widened the cut in its ectoplasmic form, spilling more _un-light._ A cry of rage and pain accompanied the countering bolt of energy that sent the black-clad girl flying, the sword falling from her grip to clatter on the floor.

 _You carry weapons that were ancient when this world was first born. Pathetic children – you cannot possibly understand what it is you wield, let alone what you face. I am the harbinger of the Nil, whom even the mighty dragons fear! Yet you **dare** to strike me?_

Tina rose to her feet, wiping blood away from the corner of her mouth, smiling at Artie.

"Oh, I dare. And so does she."

The creature's attention was suddenly drawn to yet another child, this one with golden hair and blue eyes. Was there no end to them?

"Hi. It's Brittany, bitch."

The cheerleader launched a roundhouse kick at the monster – _how did I do that? -_ and even as it rocked with the force of the blow, Puck came charging back to connect with the mace once again. The harbinger howled. Its life essence continued to drain away through the cuts the unicorn's horn and Tina's sword had made.

Realizing it had no choice but to strike back as hard and fast as it could, the harbinger unleashed another blast of energy, flattening everyone but the unicorn, who stood resolutely in the face of its terrible power. Artie was amazed; as the only human here without some kind of supernatural power, he knew he should have been reduced to ash, yet his glasses had remained in place and his hair was only slightly mussed.

 _Away, you fools! I will crush your hearts to powder! I shall flay your souls for days unending! I shall -_

"You will kindly _shut the hell up,"_ Santana said as she calmly walked into the room in her human form. "In case you haven't noticed, sparky, you're outnumbered and out-gunned here."

"Hot," Brittany and Puck both murmured in unison. Tina and Artie shared a grin.

 _This is unendurable!_ The thing shrieked in outrage. _I will not be chided by such as you, stripling. I speak for the Nil, the Dawn-Enders! The Living Doom! Bringers of Reckoning and Lords of the Outworlds! They shall wipe this realm from the universe of memory forever!_

The harbinger's words echoed in sudden silence.

 _The song - ? What – where is the Prophesied?_

Its awareness could not encompass her – and that frightened the thing more than anything it had ever experienced in all the millennia of its existence.

And Rachel stood there, glowing with a light not seen since the dragons had last flown in force over the skies of this world, a beatific smile on her face. Stood there, and the _harbinger could not touch her._

She felt the monster gather its power, felt it roiling in waves of fury and hatred toward her, felt it lashing out, but it was as ineffectual as a moth against the heat of a light bulb.

Understanding came to it at last, but far, far too late.

 _You – you are far more than we knew. Far more than even we could have thought, we who have rained destruction and despair upon worlds uncountable. You are...what...WHAT ARE YOU?_

"I'm Rachel Berry," she said simply. "And you're done."

She opened her mouth, ready to sing the single impossible note it would take to end the harbinger's existence, but caught Artie's eye as the unicorn lowered its head towards her in reverence. The silver horn glowed even as the light in the room dimmed; Tina's sword glinted with its radiance.

"Please, Mistress," the unicorn said, and Rachel didn't miss the strain in the magnificent creature's voice as it fought to rein in its excitement. _Un-light_ continued to pool on the floor, drops landing soundlessly in a steady stream. She felt the harbinger attempt to escape, to shift to another _between_ , but a low whistle from her was all it took to hold it in place.

 _WHAT ARE YOU?_

Then it screamed, and screamed again and again. Artie bowed his head. The unicorn's eyes held silvery tears even as its deadly horn tore the harbinger apart.

No one watched.


	11. Chapter 11

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter ten**

The _between_ fell away, and they found themselves standing in the middle of the choir room, still too dazed and full of adrenaline to even realize that their surroundings had changed.

The harbinger was no more than a memory now, its ectoplasmic form torn apart down to its very molecules. Rachel and Santana found themselves staring at their friends and strangely at a loss for words. The diminutive singer felt particularly awkward at the moment - how could she possibly explain all that had just happened, when she didn't fully understand it herself? Her power had changed these people – her dearest friends in the world - in ways she could never have imagined, maybe forever – and she honestly didn't know how to feel about it. Suddenly she found herself not wanting to look her friends in the face, feeling that if she did, she would start babbling apologies to them without even knowing for what. So she just stood there, blushing, and looked to Santana for help.

Santana recognized the plea in Rachel's eyes, but she was as stunned by everything as the other girl was. This had truly been a day of wonders. She had never expected to see a Trollish mace in the hands of a teenage boy, or a Unicorn with a rider on its back. Nor had she ever imagined that one of the fabled Mortal Swords would appear again in this realm, after being thought lost an age ago, wielded against a Harbinger once more. It was all happening as the Prophet-Seers of her kind had said, but so quickly - more so than their visions had shown, she suspected.

Rachel's power was enormous, and this was only the first time she had truly used it. What else was she capable of doing? It staggered Santana's mind to contemplate the possibilities. This was not the time for it now, though.

They were saved from having to speak by a stream of people bursting into the room, all talking and shouting at once. It was Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Blaine, Sam, Mike and Sugar, flailing their arms and crying out in relief that their friends were alive and unharmed, hugging Brittany, Tina and Rachel, then stepping back in disbelief at the sight of Artie mounted atop the tall unicorn, still aglow with white light.

The bespectacled boy couldn't contain his grin as he addressed his stunned peers, enjoying the feeling of being able to look _down_ at them for once. "What? I upgraded."

That bit of levity was exactly what was needed to dispel the tension in the room, as they all shared a tired yet hearty laugh at the joke. As the laughter died down, though, Kurt and Quinn fixed their appraising eyes upon their friends, and Quinn's eyebrow rose as she took in the changes that Rachel's magic had wrought.

"You look... _different,_ " the cheerleading captain said, in a familiar tone that told them she wasn't sure whether that was a good thing, and even the taller, stronger Puck cringed a little.

Kurt, no longer able to contain himself, cried, "What the hell _happened_ in here? No, no – let me rephrase – what the hell happened, _period._ Or, question mark. Whatever. It's like the entire world went insane the minute we set foot inside the school!"

"Insane? More like _awesome!_ I mean, look at these guns!" Puck crowed, flexing his arms, completely ignoring his friend's emotional distress. "And this badass - " he paused, looking at the black iron mace in his right hand, his face taking on an expression of profound confusion, " - what the hell _is_ this thing, anyway?"

Quinn rolled her eyes at him, then shot him her most withering glare as she supplied the answer that eluded him. "It's called a _mace,_ dumbass. So, whatever happened here made _you_ taller, stronger and even more stupid, turned Tina into a witch straight out of Slytherin, and put Artie on top of a freaking _unicorn –_ and no one here has any explanation as to _how_ or _why?_ " She turned her glare towards Rachel and Santana in challenge, one threatening eyebrow raised.

" _Rachel._ You usually love to explain things. Want to give it a shot?"

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but Santana waved her off with a curt gesture of the hand, saying, "I got this, tiny." She scowled at Quinn. Who the hell did this bitch think she was, making _demands_ after Rachel had just saved her and everybody else in this school?

Sam tapped Mike on the arm, causing the tall Asian boy to lean down to hear his urgent whisper. "Def-con 5, dude. Things are about to get _serious_ in here."

Mike whispered back, "Twenty bucks says Quinn totally rips the new girl a new one."

"No way. New girl is _fierce._ There's something seriously up with her. Look at her _eyes,_ man."

Santana stepped forward, into Quinn's personal space. "Okay, blondie, let me set things straight for you here. One, _this -_ " she gestured around the room, taking in the transformed Glee Club members as well as the battered room, with the chairs normally arranged in neat rows strewn all about the floor, and the soundproofing on the walls torn everywhere. " - is the result of things you couldn't possibly understand in your wildest dreams, and trust me when I say _that_ is a very good thing; and two, Rachel just saved your pale blonde ass, and that of every single person in this place, so you need to back the hell off her _now._ This is me asking you _nicely,_ and I generally don't do that twice. You get me?"

To her credit, Quinn's flinch at the fire blazing in Santana's eyes was almost imperceptible, but these people knew her better than anyone else, even her own family, and to see it actually shocked them. Still, she hadn't risen to the top of the cheerleading pyramid, and the social hierarchy at McKinley, by being easily intimidated; no, she was a _Fabray,_ damn it, and she didn't back down from anyone or anything.

"You've been at this school for what, a day now?" she said in her most dismissive tone. "I'll cut you a little slack because you _obviously_ don't know how things work around here, but here's what you need to know if you expect to survive at this school: I'm the Head Cheerio, which means nothing happens in this place without me knowing every single thing about it. It's one of the perks of being the most popular – and powerful – person inside these walls. I can make or break reputations with a single word, destroy lives in an instant, make people's lives a living hell. I've done it – but not in a long time, because the people in this room had my back at a point in my life when no one else did, and they made me a better person as a result. But if you think for one second that I'm not going to do everything I possibly can to protect my friends from anything – or _anyone –_ I deem to be a threat, you are _sorely_ mistaken. Information is power, which is crucial if I'm going to keep them safe. Therefore, I need answers, and I need them _now._ So I'm going to ask you again: _what the hell is going_ _on?_ "

The tension that had been broken earlier now returned with a vengeance. Santana and Quinn glared at each other like prizefighters in the middle of a boxing ring, just waiting for the referee to signal for the bell to ring and tell them to start swinging.

"Stop the violence," Brittany murmured, suppressing the knowledge that there were at least fifteen different ways coming to the forefront of her brain to subdue Quinn and get her out of harm's way before the other girl could even blink.

Then Rachel stepped between the two, using each hand to gently but firmly push the girls away from each other. "Stop. There's been enough conflict here today," she said, her voice low and laced with sadness. She turned to Santana, whose expression softened instantly at the weariness in Rachel's eyes. "We don't need to fight over this." And to Quinn, she said, "You're right. You deserve an explanation. You _all_ do. It's – it's just very, very complicated. I don't understand a whole lot of it myself yet, but you can believe Santana when she says there are aspects of what's going on that, if you knew about them, would absolutely terrify you. In fact, you really might be better off _not_ knowing all the details, Quinn. It's admirable that you want to protect us, but we're – _I'm –_ trying to protect _you –_ all _of you_ here. You _will_ get an explanation, I promise...but not – not right now. Okay?"

She held her breath, waiting for the cheerleader's response, hoping that nothing more would happen. She could feel Santana still coiled and seething with anger behind her, even as the challenge failed to disappear from Quinn's countenance.

Quinn's mouth tightened into a thin line as her brows knitted together. It was clear that she wanted to pursue things further, but with a slight nod of her head she signaled that she would let it go for now, and she stepped away, allowing a trembling Sugar to embrace her from behind.

Santana didn't miss the defiant flash of gold in Quinn's hazel eyes that said _this isn't over_ , but Rachel's soothing touch on her forearm enabled her to calm down just enough that her own eyes didn't blaze up again in answer.

The room was silent for a long moment before another voice was heard. "So, um...you're really _not_ going to tell us why there's a unicorn standing in the middle of our choir room?"

" _Blaine!"_ the others groaned in unison.

"Sorry."

The room remained silent for a few tense moments until the irrepressible Sugar Motta looked at Tina, cracked the gum in her mouth, and asked, "So...are you, like, _actually_ a witch now, instead of just _looking_ like one? 'Cause if you are, I would totally pay you for a love potion."

Tina's mouth tightened, as though she was about to let loose with an angry tirade against the clueless rich girl - and then, unexpectedly, she laughed. Long, loud and hard. At first the others didn't know what to make of her surprising behavior, or how to respond to it - but then, one by one, they all caught it as though it were a happy plague set airborne by a mad scientist, and soon the room was filled with a gale of hearty, mirth-filled laughter. By the time it started to settle down, nearly everyone - even Santana - was wiping away tears and clutching their midsections.

"Ah...oh...oh Gods, I haven't laughed like that in _ages,"_ Santana croaked weakly, holding Rachel in her arms to keep the other girl from collapsing to the floor.

"Wait – where's Finn?" Kurt said suddenly, a look of fear crossing his face like a shadow, and instantly the mood in the room changed drastically from one of joy and relief to one of doubt and uncertainty. "And...and Kitty?"

Rachel looked to Santana, needing some of the dragon-girl's strength once more to get through, feeling more tired than she ever had in her life. "You...you don't think they...that they could be...?" She couldn't finish the sentence, not daring to say the word she knew everyone else was thinking.

"You'd know if they were. You're bonded with them, with everyone here. Your song made that spiritual connection a physical one. Close your eyes and let yourself _feel_ it. Just let your mind reach out."

Santana's quiet voice let Rachel fall into the half-trance she needed to achieve, and sure enough, when she let her awareness stretch out to encompass the spark of life present in each person in the room, she _felt_ them, all tethered to some part of her soul. Then she spread her consciousness out still further – and she found Mr. Schuester, and Ms. Pillsbury, and Coach Beiste, and her fathers, and – _oh!_

"They're alive!" Rachel exclaimed with relief. "But...but they're hurt. Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste are with them now."

" _Where?"_ Kurt cried out. "Please, Rachel. Wherever they are – that's where we should be now."

She could only nod as she felt the powerful waves of emotion radiating off the sensitive, delicate boy.

Santana and Rachel looked at each other with mirroring expressions of surprise, but he was oblivious to their concern as he pushed past the others to get to the blackened doorway.

 _An empath?_ The dragon-girl thought. _Things just keep getting more and more interesting around here._

"Oh, _hell_ no - we are _not_ just standing around here!" Mercedes, who had been oddly quiet the whole time, suddenly shouted, snapping the rest of them from their seeming state of shock as they helplessly watched Kurt dash away. "Didn't you hear him? We need to get to Finn and Kitty. Let's go!" She stormed out immediately after that, leaving the others shrugging and exchanging puzzled glances.

"She's right, guys," Quinn agreed. Then she turned to Brittany with soft eyes and said so quietly it was hard to believe it was really Quinn speaking, "Catch up with us when you can, okay?" Brittany simply nodded in reply.

Quinn planted a soft kiss on Brittany's lips, then spun on her heel and marched from the choir room after Mercedes, the rest following right behind them.


	12. Chapter 12

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter eleven**

The group hurried out to the parking lot, where several ambulances and emergency service vehicles were parked and crowds of traumatized, confused, upset and angry students, teachers and parents were gathered. It was barely controlled chaos out there, with Coach Sylvester trying to exert some control over things, barking commands through her megaphone while Principal Figgins cowered behind her, looking like a frightened child. Her sidekick Becky hovered nervously at her side. Police, firefighters and emergency medical personnel weaved through the crowd, asking questions, examining damage to parked cars and the school building itself, tending to injured people.

There were several bodies covered by sheets. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut at the sight, burying her head against Santana's shoulder, trying desperately to hold back her tears and not succeeding. Kurt stumbled blindly at the head of the group's procession, his mouth open in a silent cry of pain at all the emotions assaulting him, drawn inexorably toward the source of the ones strongest to him. Blaine's hand was gripped tightly in his, and though it was clearly evident that Kurt was causing him some pain of his own, he kept his face stoic, expressionless, so as not to upset his boyfriend still further.

If anyone noticed that Artie was still mounted upon a glimmering white creature of legend, no words were said. It was almost certain that even stranger things had been seen and experienced this day by most of the denizens of McKinley High. He was followed by Quinn and Mercedes, Rachel and Santana, Puck, Sugar, Sam and Mike, with Brittany and Tina not too far behind.

Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl as they threaded their way through the overcrowded parking lot, seeing parents hugging their children, teachers and staff murmuring dazedly to each other, and other students standing around, staring blankly and clutching their own arms around themselves. The Glee kids all sighed in relief when they saw several of the Rock and Jazz Ensemble members clustered together, glad to know that they were all safe and seemingly unharmed. They had always had a kind of silent alliance, even if they didn't talk all that much or hang out together outside of school.

Finally, they reached the ambulance where the very worried looking trio of Mr. Schuester, Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste were gathered protectively around Finn and Kitty, both of whom were lying on gurneys next to a pair of ambulances.

"Don't worry, Finn," they heard the burly female coach tell Finn, once they were within earshot. "Your stepfather and your mother will be here any minute now. And Kitty, your folks will be here soon too."

"No, they won't," Kitty said quietly, but firmly. The short blonde cheerleader's eyes were distant, focused on some memory or dimly felt emotion. "They're both away on business. They're _always_ away on business."

Finn reached out across the small aisle of space between their gurneys to touch his girlfriend's arm awkwardly in a sympathetic gesture. "Hey, no, babe. Come on. They'll be here as soon as they can. If Ms. Pillsbury was able to get in touch with them, tell them what happened today, you gotta know they'll come back to make sure you're okay."

Kitty flinched, but didn't shy away from the touch. "Maybe. I don't want to talk about it." She coughed, and flecks of blood stained the white of her top, the red WMHS logo across the front darkened with dirt and soot.

It was Blaine's turn to stumble when Kurt dragged him forward, then ripped his hand away to sprint to his stepbrother's side, going around Coach Beiste and slipping between Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury. " _Finn!_ Finn! Oh, thank goodness you're all right!" he cried, clasping Finn's forearm, the one that was lying across his midsection, in a grip just as fierce as the one in which he had held Blaine's hand.

A lopsided smile lifted the corner of Finn's mouth; he was genuinely happy to see his unlikely brother. "Hey, Kurt. Yeah, I'm all right. Just some bumps and bruises, took a shot to the head from some falling debris, nothing too major."

Kurt looked positively aghast at Finn's blasé description of his injuries. "Since when is a shot to the head 'nothing major,' you goof? You could have been killed!"

"He took it to protect me," Kitty interjected. "He got hurt because of me. Which, I know, is not the way you all _thought_ he would be hurt by being with me, but...yes, that's what happened."

"Kitty, I'm sorry you're hurt too." Kurt's eyes were soft as he took in the girl's pale skin and haunted eyes. Then he turned his attention back to his brother. "That was very brave, Finn. I'm proud of you."

"It was nothing," Finn replied almost bashfully. "Any one of you would have done the same if you'd been in my position. Anyways, I – wait." He paused as he took notice of the rest of the group approaching them. "Is that...is Artie on a _horse?_ "

"A unicorn, actually. Believe it or not. Don't ask. Rachel and her new friend Santana have yet to explain all this madness, which apparently has something – _everything –_ to do with them. It was Rachel who stopped it, with help from Puck, Tina, Artie and Brittany. Believe it or not. Again."

"So that would explain why Tina's carrying a sword and Puck's got a giant rolling pin in his hand. You miss so much when you're unconscious."

"It's a _mace,_ but yes. Anyway, enough about them. What's this about you being unconscious?"

Kitty turned to address the flamboyantly dressed boy, whose clothing seemed to have miraculously come through the morning's events completely unscathed. "We – were hiding in the Cheerios locker room when...when whatever was happening outside started happening in there too. Lockers started flying around, footballs and basketballs bouncing off the ceiling, the walls...anyway, a chunk of the ceiling came down, and it would have hit me if Finn hadn't taken the shot off his ridiculously hard head."

Pursing his lips, Kurt took a breath in a sharp gasp. "You're a hero, Finn. I don't care what you or anyone else says."

"Yeah, well, Mister Hero over there grabbed me so hard that he may have cracked a couple of ribs," Kitty said, punctuating her words with another cough, sending more blood flying, a drop of which actually landed on Kurt's fashionable sweater. She smiled at the look of distaste that crossed the boy's face.

Finn let his hand drop away from Kitty's arm and fixed a serious gaze on Kurt. "The last thing I remember...before I got knocked out...I heard someone singing. It sounded like Rachel's voice, but not exactly. It was deeper, more powerful. Like nothing I've ever heard before."

Rachel stepped forward then, nodding to the three adults, Kitty and then Kurt.

"Yes, Finn. It was me. I – I don't understand everything that happened yet, not exactly, but...I had to sing a song to help save the school. Santana was there with me. The song somehow changed Puck, Tina and Brittany, gave them powers I don't entirely understand yet, transformed Artie's wheelchair into what you see now, and – and -" She paused, choking back tears yet again. "Oh, Kitty, Finn – I'm so sorry you're hurt! The monster that was in the school, that caused all the terrible things that were going on inside...it was here because of me, and Santana. It wanted to destroy us, and it was more than willing to demolish the school and kill everyone in it along the way."

"You?" Kitty raised an eyebrow. "Why would anyone want to destroy _you_ , let alone bring the school down around everybody's ears to do it? I mean, I know that show choir is competitive and all, but that's going a little too far, isn't it?"

Rachel's answering chuckle was tinged with sadness. "I only wish this was about the Glee Club, Kitty. Let me just say that I have recently become aware that there are forces and entities in this world that have until now hidden themselves from us, and now circumstances have forced them to reveal themselves in order to defend our entire existence from an enemy that has lain dormant for centuries but has been awakened once more."

"Um, isn't that the plot of _The Lord of the Rings?_ " Finn asked, suddenly uncomfortable with Rachel's words, and the tone in which she had spoken them. He looked to Kurt. "She made me watch all three of those movies in one day. I think my butt is still sore from it."

Kurt shrugged helplessly. He was equally uncomfortable, especially after noticing the queasy looks on the faces of the strangely quiet adults surrounding them. "There were no unicorns involved in that."

And then a cold wind began to blow. A wind that carried a strange, musty scent, one that was unfamiliar to the tired and battered group of young people and adults gathered in the parking lot and on the football field adjacent to it.

But it was not unfamiliar to Santana. "Oh, gods and goddesses, no," she whispered. "Oh, no, no, no. Not here. Not now. Anywhere else, any other time but now."

Quinn tapped her on the shoulder, startling her. "Is something wrong, Santana? Something we should know about?"

Turning to the other girl, Santana's eyes were dark and suddenly filled with a cold determination. "You need to stand back. Get everyone back." She turned away and called to Rachel. "Hey, Tiny – I hate to do this to you, but it's time for another performance."

The singer's face went ashen with shock. "Santana? What – what are you talking about?"

"There's no time to explain. Just gather yourself, focus, breathe deep – and hit the highest note you can!"

Quinn's eyes narrowed. She didn't have Santana's preternatural senses, but she could tell what was going on by the set of the dark-haired girl's shoulders, bunched with tension. She cursed under her breath, then barked out a sharp command. "Puck! Tina! Britt! Something's coming. Get yourselves ready – _now!"_

"What's going on?" a frightened Sugar asked. Sam and Mike wrapped their arms around her shoulders from either side, while Blaine dashed to place himself at Kurt's side.

 _A dark scourge approaches. A fell storm, servant of the Outlords. Another creature of the Nil,_ spoke the unicorn's voice in Artie's mind. _Are you ready to ride once more?_

 _I am,_ Artie answered, wondering at the strange calm he suddenly felt come upon him.

 _You will need additional protection. Wear once more, then, as you did in a different age, the armor of the Valorous._

A gleaming suit of silver armor encased the boy's broken body from head to toe. He felt strong and powerful for the first time in his young life. It was an exhilarating, almost intoxicating feeling; he felt almost drunk with it. It didn't even matter that Sam, Mike, Sugar, Mercedes and Blaine were all staring at him. Let them stare. This, he knew, was who he really was. For the first time in his life, he was who he was always meant to be, and it was glorious.

" _Rachel! NOW!"_ Santana screamed.

The note was impossibly high, extraordinarily clear, ringing out with enough power to shatter every window in town, yet leaving them all intact. A glow instantly emanated from Rachel's body and flew up into the darkening sky to create a dome of radiance over the entire high school campus.

As if that weren't astonishing enough, after Artie's suit of armor and Rachel's sustained high note of protection, Santana began to change. Only Rachel had seen it happen, once before, and though her glowing eyes were obviously focused elsewhere, in a distant part of her mind, she registered the gathering of power that reshaped the girl's limbs as she transformed.

Multiple jaws dropped as the space where a slender, attractive Latina girl had stood mere moments before was now occupied by an enormous red dragon with unfurling wings and eyes of blazing fire. The numerous pairs of eyes that had focused upon her were quickly drawn away to a point above them, however, when a cold and dreadful rasp of a voice sounded out of the black clouds that had gathered over McKinley High.

 _It beginsss again, hatchling. Dare you ride the black windsss into the fell ssstorm, to be ssswallowed by the sssky?_

 _You bet your ugly-ass tail I do, bitch._

The black dragon, easily twice Santana's size, with eyes of silver, hovered easily in the air and began to laugh silently as Santana launched herself into the sky, while a rain colder than any in living memory began to beat down against the shield of Rachel's song.

And in the distance, jagged bolts of icy lightning began to sear and rend the darkness. No one could tell if the screams that followed were theirs, or those of the dragons whose wings filled the sky with terror.


	13. Chapter 13

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter twelve**

As Artie peered through the visor of his armored helmet, looking up to watch the battle in the sky unfold, a thought occurred to him. _Hold up. That thing is a dragon? I'm sorry, but I thought the dragons were the good guys?_

The unicorn answered. _That thing, as you call it, is_ not _a dragon. It has taken the shape of one to mock them, and to unsettle their allies, make them doubt their loyalties. It is a nemesis, a shadow creature, one that can mimic but not truly_ be _what it appears to be. Those with eyes to see can tell it clearly for what it is. Look deeper, boy._

Look deeper? Artie was bewildered. Where? What was it he was looking for, and how would he know it when he saw it?

The winds blew harder, beating more strongly against the protective force of Rachel's magic. Her high note was still sounding in the air, not piercing or keening, almost in the background amid everything else that was going on around them. There were screams and wails and confused cries sounding all around them as the skies grew darker and the red and black dragons circled each other, power rolling off them in waves.

 _Look not with your eyes, young one. Look with your memories. The ones that were lost to you, buried deep under layers of time, yet still coursing within your veins. The memories that sing in your blood. The memories that are awakening all around, rousing allies and foes alike, calling us to action as the days of old become the days of the now._

Artie closed his eyes, went deep into his mind, reaching back, back. Images began to fill his consciousness, weaving a tapestry of movement, light and color. He watched, and learned.

* * *

Brittany was the first to feel the tremors under her feet. Soft, so soft, perceptible only to one with the physical acuity she possessed. One of her kind. The subtle pointing of her ears, the lightening of her long blonde hair, the cat-like narrowing of her eyes: these were the hallmark of her hallowed ancestors, eldest and most beloved of all the Peoples of the Old Earth. Most hated by the shadows, for they walked in light.

Their true name was lost even to memory, shrouded in myth and legend, so ancient was their lineage, so deep was their lore. _Eleidh_ was probably the oldest known term, and that only by the dragons themselves. But in this age, this world, they had come to be known as...Elves.

So it was, as the first gouts of flame lit the sky even more brightly than the strikes of lightning that sizzled and scorched the ground outside the dome wherever they struck, that she shouted a warning before anyone else was even aware of the threat, running to where Finn and Kitty lay, still surrounded by Kurt, Blaine, Mr. Schue, Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste. Somewhere along the line, she noted, Kurt's father Burt and Finn's mother Carole had arrived; Burt held Carole close as she gripped Finn's hand tightly, while Kurt clung to his father on one side and Blaine on the other.

"Puck! Tina! Jump back, and swing hard!"

Tina's sword _Persuasion_ was in her hand instantly, the blade all ablaze with blue flame. Puck bellowed a roar of warning to anything that might dare to threaten his friends. They swung their weapons simultaneously -

And the creature that had burst from the ground beneath them died, its bulbous, green-skinned head knocked clean from its neck by Puck's heavy mace, its body sheared in two at the waist by Tina's sword.

"What the _hell - ?_ " Puck swore, his clothes spattered with viscous dark green blood. "What _was_ that thing?"

More of the squat, long limbed, long-eared creatures emerged from the ground. Brittany dispatched three of them as Kurt, Carole and Kitty cried out in terror, before she was able to answer Puck's question.

"Goblins – or trolls, maybe? I'm not really sure of the difference," she said, jumping to avoid the grasp of a creature to her left, then smashing its face in with a right hand punch.

"Well, whatever these things are, they're _ugly!_ And they smell really bad, too," Tina shouted back, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the stench. Her sword blazed a trail of blue-flamed death through several more of the creatures.

Puck sensed something behind him, something bigger and bulkier than the four foot tall creatures he'd been smashing to this point. He turned and found himself staring up into the craggy face of something old, inhuman and twisted by an age-old sorcery of hate. Its skin looked like the scarred bark of an ancient tree from some dark fairy tale forest, its eyes glowed yellow, and its teeth were like a jagged, broken mountain range in its dark maw.

The creature palmed Puck's face and calmly began to squeeze his head. Agony coursed through him instantly, but he was able to summon up enough energy to connect a thundering blow to where he imagined the thing's ribs might be, if it even had ribs. It crumpled with the force of the hit, releasing Puck from its grasp. Another swing of the mace caved in its head, and it trembled and died.

"Okay, _seriously._ I'm going to have to wash my face for a week after that," he grumbled.

" _That_ was a troll," Brittany said conversationally, her body a small whirlwind, arms and legs striking out in all directions to send one goblin after another flying away with broken necks and crushed chests. "Yup, the smaller ones are goblins, and the big ones are trolls."

"Great - now that we know that, what do we do?" Tina cried, kicking away one goblin while slicing through the neck of another.

"Improvise!"

Tina thought for a moment. An idea formed. She closed her eyes for a split-second and felt a stream of magic flow through her arms and down through the sword she held – and it _understood._ This was no ordinary weapon, she realized. It was sentient and alive! She felt its joy at being commanded. Power gathered -

And suddenly every person who was able to hold one found a sword in his or her hand.

 _Persuasion_ spoke in Tina's voice, and everyone who was suddenly armed heard these words in their minds: _Let the swords you hold guide your hands. Follow where they lead you. They shall guide your movements; your arms will be strong and your feet shall not falter. Defend yourselves, now!_

* * *

Meanwhile, far above the school grounds, Santana glared at the nemesis through the fall of acidic rain glancing off her scales, bouncing off her wings. Her spirit soared as she finally understood that she had been born for this, and her cry of challenge shredded the darkness around her. She flew in an aura of light.

 _You are no dragon! Your presence in my sky is an affront, creature. Begone, before I burn you where you hover._

The black dragon snorted contemptuously. _Aye, dragon I am not, and a good thing that is. I am your better, hatchling – and before this day is through, I shall take your wings back to the Outrealms and present them as trophies to the Nil. Look down upon the human who sings her magic, thinking she can save you, save this pitiful world. Look, and know that it is a mercy I grant ere I destroy you, to let you see her whole and not as the broken thing she will inevitably become before the end._

Santana answered with flame.

* * *

Coach Beiste found herself laughing. She hadn't had this much fun in _years._ Wave after wave of goblins swarmed towards her, trying to grab at her, pull her down, cut her with their nasty yellow nails, and she merely shrugged them off, sending them flying, to meet grisly ends at the point of magically guided swords. Trolls attempted to engage her, and she battered and broke them, each of her fists as potent as Puck's mace.

"Come _on_ , you bastards! Is that the best you can do? I've taken better hits from junior varsity linemen! Let's _go!_ "

Suddenly, Ms. Pillsbury pushed herself out of Mr. Schuester's protective embrace and gasped. "Will? I – I don't feel so good." She fell to her knees. Coach Beiste swatted a goblin away before it could get to the petite guidance counselor.

"Emma! What's wrong?" Will exclaimed, his face an agonized picture of worry for the woman he loved.

Emma couldn't answer. She felt light-headed and dizzy, and there were sparks of color flashing and popping behind her eyes. Her slender form trembled as she lay on the ground. Sam and Mercedes rushed over to her, dispatching goblins as they ran. She groaned, then sat bolt upright and screamed as a searing pain shot up and down her spine, spreading out to just below her shoulders.

"EMMA!" Will shouted. He stepped toward her, then stopped abruptly when he saw just what was happening.

A pair of shimmering, translucent wings were growing out of her back. He watched in fascination as her skin began to shimmer and sparkle as though her body was giving off a thousand tiny fireworks. Eyes wider than he had ever seen looked back at him, glowing with a soft, hazy light. Her mouth, which moments ago had been rounded into an "O" of pain, curled into a soft smile. She rose from the ground, her wings fluttering, creating a cooling breeze that ruffled the hair of those around her.

She was flying.

A giggle of pure joy escaped her lips as she zipped into the air, sparks falling from her wings. When they touched those with swords, their hearts lightened and the weariness fled from their bodies. When they touched the trolls and goblins, they fell.

"Oh my God!" Mercedes exclaimed. "Are they dying?"

Brittany felt the pulse of a fallen goblin. It was faint, dull and slow, but it was there. "No," she answered. Then she began to laugh, ignoring the puzzled looks on the faces around her. "They're...sleeping. She's putting them to sleep. This is pixie magic. Ms. Pillsbury is a pixie!"

* * *

Artie started awake. He felt as though he'd been asleep for only a minute, but found himself rocked in his seat atop the unicorn, whose horn shone with deadly magic, slaying trolls and goblins alike.

 _Welcome back,_ said the unicorn's voice in his mind. _I trust you learned something while you were away?_

 _Yes,_ he responded. Looking up to where the two dragons fought, screaming, in the sky, rain pelting and swirling in the gale their wings created, he raised a hand and pointed. _There. I see it. Even these creatures have hearts. Well hidden ones, but yes, they do._

 _Two of them, in fact._

Artie nodded in his helmet. He held his arm out to the side, and the long, slender shaft of a wickedly pointed silver spear filled his armored hand.

* * *

A spray of Arctic cold met the heat of Santana's flame. _Coldrake! Ice-hearted!_

 _Ice-hearted indeed, hatchling! Your flame will avail you nothing against me._

The coldrake raised its fierce talons, and darts of ice flew from them. Most glanced harmlessly off Santana's scales, but a couple managed to get under them, to puncture the heated skin beneath before melting. She grunted in pain; it was only a momentary annoyance, but enough to break her concentration, and she was barely able to deflect another blast of cold with her own jet of flame. Annoyed, she decided to take the battle to her opponent, snapping at the coldrake's neck with her sword-length, sword-sharp teeth, but the drake's head whipped away, and Santana's jaws just narrowly missed, closing only on air. The drake swiped at her side, talons leaving trails of ice on her scales.

* * *

Finn stood woozily, unsteady on his feet. "Hey! What do I have to do to get a sword here?" he called.

"What do you think you're doing, Hudson?" Quinn yelled, seeing him swaying with one hand bracing himself against the gurney. "You want to get yourself killed?"

"No! I want to protect Kitty! She's been hurt enough already today!" he shouted back, defiant. No one was going to say that he hadn't defended his girlfriend when she needed defending.

"Get _down,_ Finn!" Burt cried. Carole grabbed him by the shoulders, but he shrugged her off.

Quinn cleaved a trio of goblins in half, then jabbed a troll in one of its massive thighs, causing it to collapse to one knee. Sugar bounded over and ran her sword through one of its eyes. The gigantic creature shuddered and died with her standing on its chest.

"Britt! Can you get Finn to lie back down before he tries to do something stupid, like walking?" Quinn barked, furious. She admired the boy's desire to defend Kitty, she really did, but she knew the reason he didn't have a sword: he simply wasn't well enough to use one.

Brittany, in mid-leap, landed a flying kick to a troll's chest, and as it went down, Puck smashed it with his mace. "Sorry, Quinn – I'm a little busy here!"

"Damn it!" Quinn swore. She wanted Coach Beiste to grab Finn and slam him down before he got into trouble, but the woman was also otherwise engaged. But Mr. Schuester was there. If she could just get his attention...

"Mr. Schue! _Will!_ Stop watching Ms. Pillsbury and get Finn back on that gurney!"

The Glee Club advisor shook his head, emerging from his trance, turned and stepped into the tall boy's space. "Listen to her, Finn. You need to get down, _now._ We're all protecting Kitty here. You don't need to prove anything to her, or to us. _Please,_ Finn."

Finn nodded slowly, his face pale, his eyes unfocused, and he allowed Will to slowly lower him back onto the gurney.

* * *

The dragons struggled in the air, slashing at each other with their talons, snapping at each other's necks with their fangs, blowing great gouts of bitter cold and blistering fire, struggling to see amid the raging storm. It was clear that the two combatants were very evenly matched, and Santana found herself growing frustrated. She had managed to slash a large tear in one of the coldrake's coal-colored wings, but even so, the creature was managing to remain aloft, seemingly by sheer force of will. On the other hand, some of her scales had frozen off at the drake's touch, leaving the flesh beneath vulnerable.

She blew a concentrated jet of flame from her nostrils, and the drake shrieked in anguish. It had jerked its head away, trying to avoid getting burned, but the tear in its wing had cost it some of its maneuverability. It had caught some of the flame on the side of its head, and Santana saw that the flame had melted one of its eyes.

A wild slash of the coldrake's talons scored Santana's flesh where one of her scales had frozen off, and the drake screamed in pleasure at Santana's roar of pain. It was time to end this, but every time the red dragon thought she had gained the upper hand, the drake managed to land a blow and slow her momentum. She couldn't divert her attention long enough to see how things were going with her friends down on the ground, but at least she could still hear Rachel's high note, strong and unwavering.

Desperately, the drake lashed out with its magic, encasing Santana's tail in ice. The red dragon dropped away from the drake with the heavy weight dragging her down. Santana increased her body temperature to melt the ice and blew a scorching jet of flame from her mouth, driving the coldrake back. The ice finally melted off her tail, and Santana flew up to snap at the drake's neck once again. The drake, slowed by its torn wing and impaired by the loss of its eye, couldn't avoid Santana's jaws this time and was caught. Thrashing in her grip, the drake managed to impale Santana in the same place she'd scored previously. Santana felt the drake's bitter cold seep into her flesh, trying to chill the internal flame that powered her.

If she was going to go down, she was going to take this bitch with her.

* * *

Far below, the goblins and trolls were pretty much down to the last of their number, hacked and whittled and sliced to pieces by the sword-wielding students, teachers and staff of McKinley High. Now most craned their necks to watch the battle unfolding in the roiling sky above.

"Santana's got her!" Brittany cried.

"Yes, but the other dragon's got her too," Quinn observed. "I can't tell who's winning!"

* * *

The rain was slowing now, as the drake's strength quickly waned. In moments, it stopped entirely. Rachel closed her mouth, the protective magic of her song no longer needed. Her throat felt raw and dry, as though she had been singing non-stop for days. She looked up and gasped in horror. Emma hovered just above her, sending a worried look at Will and Bieste.

Then Rachel looked across the lot and fixed a gaze upon Artie that was at once commanding and pleading, her eyes full of hot tears. _"Help her,"_ she croaked. She cleared her throat and found a reserve of strength deeper inside than she'd ever known to look before. _"_ _Help her!"_

The unicorn bowed its head toward Rachel in reverence. Artie opened his visor to smile grimly at her. _Let's go_ , he thought. And then they were in the _between._

They emerged from the _between_ at a point just below the snarling, thrashing, shrieking coldrake. Artie shivered in spite of the protection of his armor, the air still heavy with cold and darkness. He clutched tightly at the spear in his hand.

 _Let my eyes be yours now, child. My vision will guide your hand._

Artie steeled himself, willing calm into his bones. He knew he couldn't afford a single second's worth of doubt. They could not fail. Not now.

He drew his arm back. The drake continued to thrash even as it spent its energy on trying to freeze Santana from the inside out.

The spear flew.

The drake's remaining eye bulged from its socket, and its talon dropped away as its limb went limp. Santana's inner fire blazed at the sight of the silver spear embedded in the larger of the drake's two hearts. She roared in triumph, releasing the vanquished nemesis from her jaws. As the drake plummeted towards the ground, she blew a final, devastating blast of coruscating fire, incinerating the beast's corpse, leaving not even ash to mark its passing.

The crowd on the ground erupted in a massive cheer, though of course most didn't even have any idea what they were cheering about, or why. They only knew that something big, something important, had just happened, even as the swords they held vanished into nothingness.

Santana descended, and when she landed, she did so on two feet, running to Rachel as soon as she hit the ground to capture her in a fierce embrace. She sagged in Rachel's arms, bleeding and exhausted, as Rachel cried against her neck.

Cheers dwindled to silence. The wind was now nothing more than a sighing breeze.


	14. Chapter 14

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter thirteen**

The moments following the battle at McKinley were quiet, somber ones. Principal Figgins was found under his desk, curled up in a fetal position and mumbling to himself, and had to be coaxed out by Ms. Pillsbury with a bag of chocolate chip cookies and the sound of his wife's voice on the guidance counselor's cell phone. Holly Holliday, who had become a tenured and very popular teacher at McKinley after she'd finally decided to settle down and stay in Lima, was surprisingly named acting principal, much to Coach Sylvester's displeasure, but even the famously ill-tempered and vindictive coach couldn't find it in herself to fight over it - not when there was so much else to be addressed in the aftermath of all that had happened. The principal's office was a complete wreck, as was a good portion of the building, and it seemed a miracle that he wasn't physically injured in addition to being psychologically traumatized.

Emergency management teams arrived swiftly to assess the damage, begin repairs and obtain the appropriate attention for the wounded and the dead. Sadly, Rachel and the other Glee Club members hadn't been able to protect _everyone,_ despite their monumental efforts at trying to do so, and several students, teachers and staff members had tragically lost their lives in the chaos and violence. They knew without a doubt, however, that they had prevented far more injury, death and destruction from occurring and had to somehow console themselves with that knowledge, though it was cold comfort.

No one ever felt better after saying, or hearing, the phrase _it could have been a lot worse._

Even though it was absolutely true.

Everyone was exhausted by the events of the last couple of days, and it was an unspoken consensus that they all needed time to recover, reflect and try to relax after all that had happened.

Finn and Kitty were brought to the hospital and treated for their injuries. Burt and Carole watched over both of them even as they worried about Kurt, who looked pale and listless, as though the stress and strain of everything that had happened was draining some kind of essential energy from him. They wondered if he should be admitted as well, though he insisted that he was just fine, that it was his stepbrother and his girlfriend who needed their concern, not him. Blaine tried to keep him on an even keel, but it was difficult. The boy's eyes were haunted by the things he had seen. Blaine supposed that was completely understandable – after all, he had witnessed the same things and knew he'd never forget any of them as long as he lived - although privately he also thought that Kurt was being a bit difficult at times, and he worried about him just as much as his father and stepmother did.

Artie returned home and found that his mother was not exactly receptive to the idea of having a unicorn in the house. It was quickly decided, to Artie's chagrin, that the unicorn should return to the _between,_ putting the bespectacled boy back in his wheelchair, which he had not missed at all. He completely understood her objections, though; after all, he didn't even know if the unicorn was housebroken.

Quinn and Brittany went back to Brittany's house, where they collapsed onto the taller blonde's bed and fell asleep in each other's arms. The silent car ride was not devoid of communication between the girls, however. They knew how to have entire conversations with their eyes and hands alone, through meaningful looks and touches. Neither girl wanted to be alone, and Quinn was far more comfortable in Britt's house than her own. Quinn was very thankful that her mother had given her blessing to the impromptu sleepover. Her relationship with her mother was much improved since her father had left, but still fragile as they adjusted to life without the dark shadow of his presence looming over their lives. Brittany's parents, for their part, were only too happy to have both girls safe and sound under their roof, having wept long and loud when they finally arrived at the McKinley parking lot, frantic with worry, to find both Cheerios unharmed and alive. They noticed that there was something different about the girls, but they imagined that going through such a traumatic experience would have changed everyone there. They only hoped that the changes, whatever they were, would be for the better and not for the worse.

Mercedes had wanted to stay with Kurt to make sure he was okay, but after Burt and Carole had politely but firmly told her that she should be with her own family after all that had happened, she reluctantly agreed. She had taken some blows in the battle – nothing major, thankfully – but she was still tired and sore, so when Tina offered to take her home via magical means, as Mercedes' parents had texted their daughter to let her know that they were still stuck in traffic and were seeking a way to turn around and go back home, she wearily accepted.

Tina texted her parents to let them know that she was escorting Mercedes home and promised to come home herself right after that, although in truth she desperately wanted to talk to Rachel and Santana about everything. Obviously those two were in the middle of it all; she wanted to know why, and she wanted to know how she could help. But Rachel and Santana were in their own little bubble, each girl clinging to the other as though they were life rafts in the midst of a raging, chaotic sea. She still couldn't believe that the slender, beautiful Latina was also a huge, ferocious dragon. _A real dragon!_ That transformation was one of the most astonishing things she had ever witnessed. She knew that it was a memory that would never leave her, burned into her mind forever more. She also knew that everyone else who had seen it felt exactly the same way.

Puck had enjoyed a wide berth as he lumbered through the crowd, stepping carefully over the already decaying corpses of goblins and trolls that littered the field and the parking lot, searching for Mike and Sam. They were his bros, both on the football team and in Glee, and he would never forgive himself if anything had happened to them while he was unable to protect them. Yes, he knew that Tina's magic had provided them with swords and the ability to use them, but those nasty, vile creatures had been tough opponents. His mind swam, his heart raced and bile rose in his throat at the thought of his friends having been hurt in any way.

When he finally found Mike and Sam, they were standing together with dazed, numb expressions on their faces. They were dirty, scratched and bruised, bleeding from small cuts in a dozen or more places, but besides that, seemed to be okay to Puck's eyes. Weariness was etched into every line of their bodies, and their eyes kept darting up to the sky, as though they expected another dragon to come flying out of nowhere, an explosion of beating wings and searing fire. But they were present enough to greet Puck with tired smiles and raised fists to bump, and Puck felt relief wash through him; they were going to be all right. He gathered them into his arms, embracing them with fierce, brotherly affection, and they sagged into it as though they'd been waiting for someone to lean on since the battle had ended.

The three boys trudged over to Puck's beaten-up truck, which was now even more beaten up, sporting several new dents and deep gouges in various places. The blood of trolls and goblins, as well as humans, stained the paint, putting a deep frown on Puck's face as he assessed the damage. The frown turned to laughter when he found that he was now too large to get into his own vehicle. They were all still laughing when he tossed the keys to Mike, who silently agreed to drive while Sam took the passenger seat and Puck climbed into the bed. When the laughter turned to silence as they headed back to Puck's house, where his anxious mother and younger sister awaited his return, each of the young men got lost in his own thoughts, wondering what all this meant, worrying over what might be coming next.

Mr. Schuester and Coach Bieste cried in each other's arms as Emma hovered about on her silken wings, biting her lip in concern for the man she loved and her best friend. Bieste had been an absolute wrecking ball in the battle, smashing every creature that had dared to come near Will, Finn and Kitty, but she had taken some hits too. Her face and body bore a multitude of cuts and bruises, and Emma was certain that the tall, burly coach had suffered some broken bones too. A new sense bloomed within her, a kind of health-sense, and with it came an awareness of an ability to do something about the injuries that so many had suffered. She couldn't heal them, exactly; but she could ease their pain, calm their hurts, lighten their hearts. This realization caused her to glow softly, and she rose into the air and began to fly over the crowd, letting loose a gentle rain of shimmering light. As she flew over, wherever her light fell, thankful groans and sighs of relief were released as aches and pains were muted and tensions evaporated. Emma smiled in pleasure: helping people, particularly young people, was all she'd ever wanted to do; she'd just never imagined being able to do it like this!

And as crushed and broken cars were towed away, injured people given medical attention or taken to the hospital and others went home to their families and loved ones, the crowd dispersed around Rachel and Santana. Long minutes turned into hours as they held each other, intensely grateful that they had survived the harrowing ordeal. Both girls were completely wiped out, almost dead on their feet, but they refused to let go. Rachel's tears had soaked Santana's shirt, and Santana still ached all over even after Emma's healing light had touched them. The fathers Berry stood and watched, not wanting to interrupt the tender scene. Somehow they knew that the two had protected each other through all the strangeness that had occurred this day, and that would always be the case with them. Their little girl, they realized with some sadness, was no longer a little girl, and no longer theirs alone. They could see quite clearly that Rachel was in very good hands with Santana.

Rachel sniffled as she lifted her head from Santana's shoulder, the tracks of her tears starkly visible through the light makeup that had been ruined long ago. The pounding in her head and the raw soreness in her throat had subsided thanks to Emma, but nothing could completely ease the ache in her heart as she looked up into the face of her protector, her friend, her...what? Something more? She didn't know how to define it, exactly, but she knew now that she had very strong feelings for the girl who had flown into the sky to battle a monster, who had fought a war in the heavens to protect her and her friends and the entire town from a nightmare that had flown into their lives on wings of shadow.

A rueful chuckle escaped her as she looked at Santana's shirt, darkly stained with her tears and Santana's own blood.

"I'm sorry, Santana. It appears I've ruined your shirt," she said, sniffling again, wiping at her eyes to clear them of any remaining excess moisture. She was determined to somehow keep herself from shedding any more tears in spite of the fact that every time she closed her eyes, she saw Santana in her dragon form, the coldrake's cruel talons scoring her flesh, its jaws snapping at her neck. The fear she had felt then rushed through her again. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out at the still-fresh memory. Her knees nearly buckled, but Santana's strong arms held her upright, held her together.

"It's okay, Rachel. I've been through worse," Santana said quietly. Both knew that she wasn't talking about her shirt being soaked through by Rachel's tears. "I...I'm just glad you're all right. I didn't know if you had enough control over your power to keep the shield up as long as you did, but you pulled it off. What you did...you were incredible. Magnificent. You're a real star, tiny. My perfect _estrellita._ "

"Your perfect little star?" Rachel's eyes widened.

"That's right," Santana replied, smiling. "Oh, and in case you're wondering why a dragon would know Spanish, well – let's just say that my people have gotten around a bit over the last few thousand years."

When Rachel laughed at this, the worry in Santana's heart eased. The events of the last couple of days had been incredibly traumatizing for all involved, but more for Rachel than anyone else, who had been forced to watch everything spiral wildly out of control around her without being able to do anything but stand rooted to the spot, singing that one impossible note for what seemed like an eternity. At least her friends had been empowered to defend themselves, but even with the assistance of Tina's magic, several of them had been hurt – and she had seen that several students, teachers and staff members had not survived the confrontation at all, including the boy that had been her nemesis in the school, the would-be muckraking blogger, Jacob Ben-Israel. Santana had noticed the color draining from Rachel's face when she'd witnessed the white sheet being drawn over the unmoving boy's head, his eyes still wide open in terror, his glasses cracked. She learned that Rachel was an amazingly forgiving person when Rachel's memories burst unbidden into Santana's mind, showing her that even though Jacob had always been an incredible annoyance to Rachel, she still grieved for his loss, for his parents, who would now have to live the rest of their lives mourning their only son.

"This...this is only the beginning, isn't it?" Rachel asked soberly, her voice a haunted whisper. "There's going to be more of this kind of thing. More attacks, more battles, more... _everything_."

She would bend, but never break. There were undoubtedly tests to come, but she would pass them with the same determination and resolve that had gotten her through every other test she had ever faced before. She'd vowed a long time ago that nothing would ever stand between her and her dreams, and that was more true now than ever. True, she'd never imagined that any of those barriers would come in the form of mythical creatures and magical assassins, but it didn't matter. Whatever came next, she would face it head on, and if she had to fight, she would fight. There was a stage waiting for her in New York City, a marquee waiting to shine her name in lights, and nothing and no one would keep her from getting there.

As long as she had Santana by her side, she felt she could do anything. Even save the world.

And the moment Rachel realized that, Santana felt the bond between them snap into place, an unbreakable tether connecting the two of them now and for all time. It felt as though her soul had been asleep until this very moment, and was just now awakened to its true destiny, its true place in this life. The undeniable fact that she had been born to love, protect and cherish Rachel Berry sent her mind reeling. She was astonished at the simple _rightness_ of it, and it felt to her that she needed to love Rachel, for Rachel to love her, as much as she needed to breathe, or to fly. She would give up her wings, her fire, everything she had ever been before now, if it meant that she and Rachel could always be together.

"Yes, Rachel," she breathed, overwhelmed by the emotions that were stirring within her. "There will be more. I'll be with you, though, through everything." She paused, fighting back her own tears now. She had never been one to show her feelings, but somehow she could no longer hide anything from the girl in front of her. "I'll be right next to you, in front of you, behind you, wherever I need to be to protect you, to keep you safe, to show you the way to go. I'll be your light in the darkness, your song in the silence, your hope against fear. I'll be everything you want. I...I can't explain the way I feel about you, Rachel. I just...I need to know if you feel the same way. You don't need to give it a name, put a label on it, just yet. We can figure that out later, once this is all over."

The plea in Santana's dark eyes was answered emphatically by the light that kindled in Rachel's chocolate ones, and their hearts soared with happiness, just as Santana had soared into the sky to prevail against a mortal enemy only a few short hours ago.

The Berry men smiled at each other as they watched Santana gently run her fingers through Rachel's soft hair and lean her head down to bring her lips to Rachel's in a tender, gentle kiss. All of them knew that the future wasn't promised to them, but they swore in that moment that whatever time they had, they would make the most of it together, come what may.


	15. Chapter 15

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 **chapter fourteen**

Rachel dreamed of ice and snow, of wind whipping tiny daggers of piercing cold against her flesh beneath the heavy robes she wore, stabbing at her her face and eyes despite the hood she had drawn up over her head. She is flying, her gloved hands holding fast to Santana's scales as they swoop and soar into the teeth of the roaring wind. Magic pours from her body, negating the cold as soon as it hits her, sweeping out to blast the demons from their perches atop the coldrakes they ride. She squints into the waves of whiteness, cursing beneath her breath at the complete lack of visibility the storm and snow has caused, when Santana's voice chimes in her mind.

 _Bumpy ride here, I know – but don't worry,_ mami _. I got you. Just remember that you don't need your_ eyes _to see._

Smiling against another gust of frigid air rushing past her, Rachel pats a scale and responds: _Right. No matter how much training I've gotten, I still forget the basics sometimes._

Closing her eyes, she inhales deeply, the air as warm as spring when she takes it into her lungs. Extending her consciousness out and around herself, the vision of her inner sight takes over, and suddenly everything is as clear as if it's a summer day in Lima, and not deepest winter in – well, wherever it is they are now.

 _Deephark,_ Santana supplies. _A stubborn demon stronghold in the Nth-realm. We clean out these pockets pretty regularly, but they keep coming back._

 _Like roaches._ Rachel grimaces at the mental image. _Well, maybe we just need a better repellant to keep them away._

 _What did you have in mind,_ estrellita _?_

Fire blooms in her hands. Her eyes gleam like stars in the reflected light. Santana's long, sinuous body quivers with the thrill of feeling Rachel work magic atop her. She'll never get tired of the sensation.

 _An eternal light to cast out the darkness around this place._

White flame explodes all around the enormous gray mountain, sending up great gouts of steam into the air, along with demons and goblins set aflame, screaming as they burn to ash and cinders. Spears are launched by failing demon arms, massive balls of ice-coated rock melt like giant snowballs. Gutteral curses and shrill howls fill the frigid morning as the blackened corpses of coldrakes and their faceless riders fall like icy rain to the white-coated ground.

 _Well, that's one way to start the day,_ Santana comments, admiring Rachel's handiwork. She knows that this kind of magical fire hasn't been seen here – or anywhere – in an age.

But now it's a new age – the age of the Dragon Queen Santana, and her most Beloved, Rachel of Lima. All the skies in all the worlds are theirs to rule, and those who worship evil and darkness are quickly coming to find that there is no longer anywhere, in any realm, where they can hide.

Quickly, the last fleeing stragglers are picked off by dragon and mage, each with a fire all her own, yet perfectly complimentary to one another. Silence replaces the screams of the fallen demons, and once satisfied that their grim task is done here, Rachel sends a darkly amused, weary thought to her Queen.

 _This is the part where you tell me there's still a lot left for us to do today, so we'd better get our pretty little asses moving, right?_

It's still strange for Rachel to feel the dragon's deep, silent laughter rumbling beneath her as its body twists and turns through the clouds; she's not sure, even after all this time, that she'll ever quite get used to it. Yet it never fails to bring a smile to her lips, just the same. The bond they shared was strange to other dragons and humans alike, but their hearts beat strongest when they beat together, in time with the movement of Santana's wings beating a path in the air, towards wherever they're going next.

The dragon groans in her mind, once the laughter subsides. _You know me far too well. Although I'd love nothing more than to return back to our chambers and engage in far more...pleasant activities, it's sadly true that we have many more hours and much more work ahead of us – which means, alas, that we will both probably be far too tired to engage in much more than a sip of wine and a good night's sleep._

A lone, riderless coldrake suddenly appears in front of them, its scales blackened and scorched, its head bowed in submission. Santana gestures with her long, elegant snout for the creature to land, and the three of them settle onto a patch of blackened grass, where the snow and ice has been melted away by dragonfire.

The wind slows, and the snow swirls lazily in the warming air. The sorcery that spawned the storm has burned itself out.

 _Mercy. I beg you, mercy. Please – don't kill me. I have young, barely more than fresh hatched. Let me go home to them, and I swear I'll trouble you no more, Dragon Queen._

Rachel stares into the creature's eyes, searching for the truth, for any signs of intended deception. She learned the value of wariness a long time ago, for many times before has an enemy pleaded for mercy, only to attempt an attack after the request was granted.

 _Beloved?_ Santana asks, shielding her thoughts from the hovering drake. _What do you think? Is this one sincere, or shall I...?_

 _No. It's telling the truth. It just wants to go home – like us._

The dragon's body tenses with uncertainty, muscles shifting and bunching beneath soot-darkened metallic scales. _You sure?_

Rachel inclines her head in question to the defeated adversary, asking for and receiving permission to enter its mind.

Gently probing, not wishing to hurt the already injured foe, she finds the threads she's looking for, the bonds of love connecting the drake to its mate and their young, whose wings haven't even unfurled yet. The drake trembles at the touch of Rachel's mind - so alien, so powerful, yet so light and delicate. It knows that the tiny human sorceress could destroy her easily, completely, with barely a thought; still it clings to the hope that it will be spared, despite its part in the failed assault that took place here.

Rachel feels its fear, its hope and its sadness. She holds its fate in her hands, as she's held the fates of so many before. Most have failed this most intimate of tests; this one has not. There is light inside here, amid the darkness. She is satisfied that the drake is sincere, and with that, she withdraws from the creature's mind.

 _Your mate, and your young, await you many leagues from here – but you are grievously wounded. I must heal you if there is to be any hope of your return. You will not survive the long journey if I don't. Will you consent?_

 _Lady, I do not deserve -_

 _You desire change. You desire a life for your offspring that is different from the life you have been forced to live. A life free of war and pain and suffering. That life cannot happen if you do not return to them. Their pain and grief over losing you would inevitably turn to rage, and they too would end up flying to battle in the hope of avenging their fallen sire. No, you must live – live to be an example to your your young, to teach them that peace is not only desirable, but possible. Again, I ask: will you consent?_

Stunned, the drake bows its head still lower. _I will. May all the gods of all the realms bless and keep you._

Rachel smiles even as a tear tracks down her face, landing wetly on one of Santana's scales, provoking a teasing grumble from the dragon.

 _Get on with it, then. "Lady."_

 _Hush, you. I need to concentrate._ She playfully slaps at a scale, then opens her mouth to sing.

A nimbus of light surrounds the blue-scaled drake. Magic flows out from Rachel's hands and into the wounded creature, soothing cracked and blistered flesh, knitting bone and muscle together, carefully sealing tears in fragile wing membranes. In all the known worlds, there is no more skilled practitioner of the art of magic than Rachel Berry, the Lady of the Dragons, Singer of the True Song. The drake stares in awe and wonder at the surgical precision with which she wields the primal energies of nature, of creation itself.

 _If you are not a goddess,_ it gasps, _then there has never been one, in this world or any other._

Santana chuckles lowly through her sword-sharp fangs. _Drake, I am inclined to agree with you._

 _I can hear the both of you, you know,_ Rachel admonishes them. Her song ends, and the corona of light around the drake vanishes. _How's that wing now?_

The drake is astonished; at least a quarter of the membrane had been torn, almost completely. The healer at home would have simply lopped off the wing altogether, condemning the drake to a flightless life – a fate worse than death for a proud, full-blooded coldrake of the Ice March. Yet now it looked as though it had never received a single scratch.

 _I owe you a debt that can never be repaid, Lady Rachel. And you, Queen Santana. I owe you my life._

 _If you feel there is a debt between us, then use that life to guide your young onto another path, so that the flight of their lives does not bring them to a place like this, a place of darkness and death. Show them the way of love, and light, and peace. Do that, and the debt will be paid._

 _The cycle of hate and war can be broken,_ Santana adds. _Let it start with you._

The drake raises its head, finally. The light of gratitude shines in its wide, round eyes.

 _I shall, Lady. My young will praise your name as they grow. May the winds always flow favorably beneath your wings, Dragon Queen._

"And yours," Rachel says, her voice cracking with emotion. "Fly swiftly now – fly!"

With that, the coldrake launches itself into the air, flying off into the eye of the pale yellow sun, towards the highest reaches of the Ice March. Flying towards home.

 _Still a sucker for a happy ending, I see._

"Oh, shut up," Rachel says, patting Santana's warm, scaly neck. "We've got work to do, remember?"

 _Unfortunately, I do. Get ready for another bumpy ride,_ estrella.

"I always am," comes the quiet reply, the words almost taken by the whipping wind as they fly up to the portal opening above them. "I always am."

* * *

Santana wakes up, feels Rachel tense in her arms. It's how she can tell the girl is dreaming. It frustrates her still that she can't see into Rachel's mind when she's in the dream state; so many times the little singer has woken from a nightmare, pale and shaking, but unable to describe anything she saw in her sleeping vision, causing Santana to carry a burden of concern for her the rest of the day.

Brown eyes flutter open, and a small, tired smile spreads across Rachel's beautiful face, making Santana's heart skip a beat. In all her years, she's never seen anything like the girl in her arms.

"Hey there, _mami._ Good morning," she says, pressing a gentle kiss to Rachel's tanned cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

Stretching in Santana's gentle, yet firm embrace, Rachel yawns, blinks the last of the sleep from her eyes. "I had a dream."

"Did you now?" Santana asks, amused by the adorable way Rachel's eyes and nose crinkle up when she yawns. "I hope it was a good dream."

"It was," Rachel answers, pulling the blankets tighter around herself, turning in Santana's arms, and Santana knows she's telling the truth. She snuggles closer to the smaller girl's curled-up body, strokes slender fingers through the singer's dark, messy locks.

"We were flying, and it was snowing all around us..."


	16. Chapter 16

**of fire dragons and singing stars**

 _ **chapter fifteen**_

 _We have always lived among dragons._

Rachel had known this since she was a little girl, since the very first time she'd seen that unforgettable shadow fly across the moon, and the giant creature had touched minds with her. She'd been too young to understand everything it had meant at the time, all that that very first dragon had been trying to convey to her in that all-too-brief moment, but now...

Now she was older, and she understood more. She was beginning to comprehend and accept the things she had learned since Santana, the girl who was also a dragon, the girl who was capturing her heart more and more with each passing day, had flown down from the sky and into her life. So many fantastic things had happened since then, things she'd once believed she would only ever read about in books, that it would make her head spin if she could ever find a moment to think about it all.

But of course, Rachel being Rachel, her entire life had been over-scheduled well before she'd been thrown into a world-threatening crisis and seen most of her friends changed – perhaps irrevocably – by the ancient magical forces that had been awakened back into the world by said crisis. So it was that in the weeks since McKinley High School (and the rest of Lima, for that matter), had almost been completely destroyed, between Glee Club, homework and helping with the reconstruction efforts, she'd hardly had a moment to breathe, much less _think_. She, who had once prided herself on being so completely in control of everything in her life, now felt that her destiny was entirely out of her hands, a plaything in the grip of forces that were still as far beyond her understanding as trigonometry was to Brittany.

Lying on her bed, feeling so exhausted that she might never rise from it again, Rachel felt her mind finally begin to spin a little more slowly, her body to uncoil from the constant state of tension she'd felt since the attack on McKinley. She began at last to think beyond the moment and into what needed to be done in the near future. First and foremost, there was Glee. It was clear that Mr. Schue was reluctant to address what had happened, particularly as related to Finn's injuries and Ms. Pillsbury's remarkable transformation during the battle. This meant that she would have to call a special secret meeting of the club, one without their beloved teacher present. The man had been deeply shaken by everything that had occurred, so much so that his focus – never the strongest even at the best of times – was way off, and if they were to have any hope of doing well at the next competition, they needed him to get him back on his game.

They also needed to discuss among themselves the ways in which what was happening had changed them, not only physically, but emotionally as well. Quinn and Britt's relationship seemed to have become stronger than ever, which was good, but Kitty's sadness and anger over Finn's injuries had been causing her to viciously lash out against other club members - that is, when she wasn't weeping on Artie's or Mike's or Sam's shoulder. These wild mood swings - while completely understandable - weren't helpful from the standpoint of team unity, in Rachel's view. Kurt, too, had grown solemn and distant, consumed with worry for his stepbrother. Blaine was beside himself, trying desperately to draw his boyfriend out, fearing that Kurt was pulling away instead of turning to him for strength and solace. If the New Directions were going to hold together, Kurt and Blaine's relationship needed to be stabilized as quickly as possible; they were far too talented, far too important on a performance level, let alone a personal one, to be allowed to drift out of the club's orbit, and away from each other.

Puck needed to be carefully watched as well; his bluster and braggadocio had been a source of amusement for as long as they'd known him, but now that he was magically empowered, there was a danger that he could get out of control and possibly hurt someone, even accidentally. He truly didn't know his own strength, and that could present a serious problem. (And his added bulk hadn't helped his dancing any, either.)

Rachel groaned and lay a forearm over her closed eyes. Her head spun. Leading this team of talented misfits and outsiders had never been easy, and now it would be even more difficult. She would do it, though. She would do it, and she would lead them to victory, because she was Rachel Berry and that was what she did.

Then she realized that she wouldn't be doing it alone, because now she had Santana.

Her thoughts drifted to the beautiful, caramel-skinned dragon girl, as they did so often. Over and over, one image from the battle played in her mind: Santana shifting into her true, magnificent dragon form, her long, serpentine body stretching out, gathering sunlight upon her gleaming scales, her giant wings unfurling like great red flags, snapping in the wind that collected under them as she launched herself into the air...

A sigh escaped her lips. Santana was just so incredibly beautiful, even in such an alien shape. Honestly, it almost seemed unfair that the girl was gorgeous as both a human _and_ as a dragon - but she was, and gloriously so.

And she was _hers._ Somehow, impossibly, fate or the universe or whatever had brought them together, and now there was a bond between them that Rachel knew could not be broken – not by war, not by magic, not by anything that existed in this or any other world. Santana was hers, and she was Santana's. She felt as though half of her heart now beat inside Santana's chest, and half of Santana's heart now lived in hers.

 _Awake and dreaming again,_ estrellita?

The lilting, familiar voice chuckled inside her mind, and Rachel wished – not for the first time – that it was possible to throw a pillow at a thought.

Yet she couldn't keep the smile from her face at the sound of it reverberating in her head.

 _Spying on me again? Where are you?_

The doorbell rang.

 _Does that give you a clue?_

Rachel rolled her eyes at the mirth that filled the voice in her mind as she pushed herself up from her bed. _Subtle as always,_ she sent back. Quickly, she pulled a pair of her favorite snug-fitting yoga pants from her clothes drawer and slipped them on, then bounded from her room and down the stairs to answer the door. Her fathers had reluctantly gone away (on a business trip and a medical seminar, respectively) after Rachel had assured them that she would be fine by herself for a few days, so she was alone in the house.

Alone, but never alone - because she knew that Santana was always there. Always watching over her, ensuring her safety. As far as Rachel could tell, the dragon-girl had no need for sleep, as humans did. She had no idea how or even if Santana ever rested; her energy and alertness seemed virtually without limit.

After checking her face and hair in the mirror in the little hallway just before the door, Rachel opened it and found the wide smile on her face mirrored by Santana's. The raven-haired girl stood there in a simple outfit - white T-shirt, red jacket, black skinny jeans and white high-top sneakers – and still looked so gorgeous it actually took Rachel's breath away. She blinked a few times, feeling almost as if she'd been entranced, then remembered herself.

"Hello, Santana. You look very..." _Ravishing,_ she wanted to say, but didn't. "... _casual_ today."

This drew a very musical, very un-dragon-like laugh from Santana. "And _you_ look like you just got out of bed, threw on the first pair of pants you could find - rather than greet me in your underwear - checked out your face and hair in the mirror before opening the door, and _still_ haven't invited me inside."

Rachel pouted, but couldn't really be mad at the mirth dancing in Santana's eyes. "Please, _do_ come inside, by all means. I honestly can't _wait_ to hear more of your riveting assessment of my appearance."

Santana nonchalantly stepped in and to the side, allowing Rachel to close the door behind her. "Hey, I'm a dragon. We're known for keeping it real," she said with a shrug.

"No, you're known for keeping it _mythical,_ " Rachel shot back. "Until very recently, I was the only person in Lima who knew that dragons are in fact real, and _not_ gold-hoarding engines of destruction a la Tolkien's Smaug in _The Hobbit._ "

"True fact: Smaug was a distant relative of my family's," Santana stated matter-of-factly as she crossed through the Berry living room into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "We didn't like him all that much," she continued, "so we let Tolkien write him that way. Yeah, he was greedy and all, but he never actually torched a human town like that. He just ate a few sheep here and there. The rest was purely artistic license on the author's part."

Rachel's jaw dropped, then her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I can never tell if you're actually being serious when you say things like that."

Plopping down into a chair at the kitchen table, Santana laughed. "And I _love_ that about you."

"Is it true?" Rachel suddenly asked, her expression thoughtful as she sat across from the dragon girl. "I mean, there's so much I don't know about you...about dragons in general. So much I'd _like_ to know. Thousands of years of hidden history, a whole other side of existence that's shrouded in all this myth and mystery for us humans." She paused, looking down at her hands, folded together on the table, biting her lip. "I want to _know_ you, Santana. Who you really are, where you come from. What your family is like. My life's pretty much been an open book since we met, but _you_...you're still kind of like something out of a dream to me."

The hint of sadness in Rachel's eyes stabbed at Santana's heart. She reached across the table to cover Rachel's hands with her own, and instantly she knew what she had to do. She took a deep breath, then expelled it in a great _whoosh_ and began to speak quietly.

"We dragons are comfortable in the human world," she began, "having watched over and protected it pretty much since the beginning. Especially those of us like me, who have the ability to live as both dragon _and_ human – but humans have generally not seen our home or been around more than one or two of us at a time. The very rare times that a human _has_ been in a position to do either of those things...well, let's just say it hasn't gone well. It's a lot to take in, and humans tend to get more than a little overwhelmed by it."

Rachel's face, which had taken on a more hopeful look, fell at Santana's words, and the dragon girl hurried to get to her point, which she knew would completely change Rachel's look from one of disappointment to one of delight in a heartbeat.

"But you, _mi estrella,_ are no ordinary human. You're anything _but_ ordinary – which is why you're going to get your cute little ass back up to your room and into some warmer clothes, because _we_ are going flying today, and _you_ are going to meet _mi madre y_ _mi abuela_."

Rachel squealed with happiness, bolting up from her seat so quickly that the chair clattered to the floor behind her. " _Really?"_ she cried. "Oh, Santana – I'm so excited! Do you think they'll like me? How would I even be able to _tell_ if they like me? I can't read dragon faces like I can people faces. Or at least dragon faces that aren't yours." She frowned, oblivious to the rather amused grin Santana wore. "What if they _don't_ like me? Oh, that would be _terrible!"_

Suppressing a laugh with a hand over her mouth, Santana somehow managed to gasp out, "Relax! Rachel, _relax._ Please. Of course they'll like you. I've told them all _about_ you, and they're as excited about meeting you as you are about meeting them. So hurry up and get changed already – you don't want to be late, do you?"

The look of absolute horror at the very _idea_ of being late that crossed Rachel's face was just too much, and Santana finally broke out into a peal of laughter.

Rachel glared at her, but said only, "I'll be right back. Do _not_ go anywhere, or I promise you, flying dragon or not, I _will_ find you and – and - oh, never mind! Just stay here!" And with that, she executed one of her famous diva storm-outs and fairly flew up the stairs to her room.

While Rachel changed, Santana composed herself and waited at the bottom of the stairs with what she hoped was a contrite expression. She hadn't meant to upset Rachel with her laughter, but the girl was being so...so...so _Rachel!_ She just couldn't help but laugh. Any of their friends in the Glee Club would have reacted the same way, she reminded herself, trying not to feel too guilty over it.

"Santana?" came the girl's voice down the stairs. The note of uncertainty it carried was glaringly apparent, and Santana frowned. She actually hated it whenever Rachel sounded insecure or unhappy in any way.

"Yes, _estrella?_ " she answered.

Rachel suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs wearing a blue fuzzy-hooded parka, a sweater with a reindeer leaping across the front of it, heavy black sweatpants and a pair of fur-lined winter boots.

"Is this all right, or will I need a scarf as well?"

* * *

Some time later – after a few clothing adjustments made under Santana's critical eye – the girl and the dragon were soaring through the lazily drifting white clouds and bright blue sky. Rachel found herself really appreciating the skiing goggles her fathers had bought her before they'd gone on a skiing trip to Colorado the previous year, and she had to admit that the long purple coat she wore now was much more comfortable than that old parka, even if she _did_ love that fuzzy hood. Once Santana had reminded her that her magic would automatically protect her from the cold and thin air, she felt much better.

 _I haven't met many parents before,_ Rachel confessed, her mind-voice tinged with sadness. _Despite the fact that I have fairly recently acquired a group of friends whom I love dearly, I must admit that I haven't been to visit anyone's house except those of Kurt and Mercedes for our monthly makeover / slumber parties._

 _Why not?_ Santana asked, puzzled. _I happen to know that all the New Directions think the world of you._

 _I'm happy to know that, and I love them too, but –_ Rachel hesitated, sounding small and insecure, not at all like the strong, confident leader she was in Glee Club, which Santana found to be more than a little unsettling. _This will sound silly, especially since I've chosen a career path in which I will be meeting strangers and being judged by them all the time, but – I find the thought of meeting my friends' parents to be quite intimidating. I know I want to be liked far too much, and I fear that overwhelming desire will lead me to say the wrong thing, or do something to embarrass myself, like walk into a table or knock over a lamp or a vase, and then they won't like me at all and won't ever allow me back into their homes. I...I can't bear the thought of that. Which is why I'm so concerned about your family and their assessment of me. My friends are one thing – but_ _ **you**_ _...you're_ _ **everything**_ _._

If Santana had been in her human form, she would have had to wipe tears from her eyes at those last few words – and she absolutely _loathed_ crying, so she was very glad that she was in her dragon form at this particular moment.

 _You're right – that_ _ **is**_ _silly. You're wildly intelligent, you're funny, sweet, personable, well-spoken, ridiculously polite...what parent in his or her right mind_ wouldn't _like you? Hell, I think they'd want to freakin'_ adopt _you, not throw you out of their house, broken lamps notwithstanding. In fact, my family is going to love you so much, they'll forget I'm even there. But even if they didn't, I would love you anyway. There's nothing anyone – not even_ mi abuela – _could say or do to ever change that._

Rachel sniffled and coughed – she had been holding back her own tears – and then a burst of relieved laughter bubbled up inside her, escaping through her lips and being taken by the wind as they ascended ever higher. Of course, her real fear was that if Santana's family rejected her, then Santana would reject her too, and her heart would be broken, smashed into a million pieces. She was deliriously happy to know that this was not the case at all.

The rest of the conversation was light, playful banter back and forth about the various members of the Glee Club, making the long flight to the Cloud Palace of the Fire Dragon clan seem like a walk around the block, and Rachel started with a shock when she saw the massive stone edifice floating amidst the clouds, supported by nothing she could see.

 _It's – it's amazing, Santana!_ She gasped in awe at the sheer, gargantuan size of the structure, far larger than any building she'd ever seen before in her life. It made sense that it was enormous, given the size of the dragons it housed, but still, Rachel couldn't help but be amazed. As they flew closer and closer, she was able to see the intricate carvings all over the sand-colored stone, and then she began to become aware of the ancient magic that kept the palace aloft and hidden from detection. It was extraordinarily powerful stuff, and incredibly old, an intricate latticework of sorcery so elegantly crafted that it could only be called art, even by one so new to its ways as Rachel was. Her body positively hummed with it. She felt herself vibrating in resonance with it, the way she did when her voice harmonized perfectly with Quinn's or Tina's.

 _Yeah, it's not much, but it's home,_ Santana joked, but she too was feeling the waves of magic radiating from the palace. Her blood sang with happiness as it always did whenever she returned here, to the place of her hatching. Roars of greeting sounded out from within the palace, filling the air, and Santana returned the greeting with an answering cry so loud that Rachel had to release her grip on one of Santana's scales to cover her ears. It was a good thing that the dragon's magic made it impossible for her to fall off no matter what she did, but the fear leapt into her heart for the briefest of moments before she was able to return her hands to their former position.

The gigantic floating stalactite of rock upon which the palace was built was so large that there was plenty of room before it for Santana to slow her descent and ease through the whipping wind, coming to rest as gently as if they'd been a pair of feathers floating on a lazy spring breeze.

 _Last stop. All passengers, please disembark and head towards the entrance._

Rachel giggled as Santana lowered her long, serpentine neck to allow her to slide off and onto the ground. Now she really felt as though she'd fallen asleep and woken up in a fairy tale. _What a most excellent ride. How much do I owe you?_

A low growl rumbled deep in the dragon's chest, which Rachel knew now to be the equivalent of laughter for her kind. _We'll negotiate the fare later. But right now? Heads up –_ mi madre _is coming._

With a short, sharp nod, Rachel acknowledged the warning and drew herself up to her full height. She schooled her face into the most serious expression she could, given the fact that she was now on a floating island high above the earth and about to be surrounded by an entire pack of the most powerful mythical beasts in existence -

 _Clutch._

Rachel's eyes turned to meet Santana's, which again danced with mirth. _What, now?_

 _A group of dragons is a_ clutch, _not a pack._

She blinked at the giant red dragon in confusion. _When did I say_ pack?

 _Just now._

 _I didn't_ say _that – I_ thought _it._

 _Yes, you did. And it was incorrect. So I'm correcting you._

 _I really don't like you sometimes. But thank you for the correction, nonetheless._

An image of Santana's human face flashed in Rachel's mind, sticking its tongue out.

 _You're welcome. Now hush. You're about to become the first human to lay eyes on Dragon Queen Maribel in an age._

Rachel swallowed hard. The ground beneath her shook and trembled with the pounding steps of many dragons lumbering out of the palace. She gasped in wonder at their beauty. So many colors! Gold and blue and green and gray and brown and -

Silver.

The enormous silver dragon that came last regarded her with knowing slate-gray eyes. Rachel felt the weight of its regard as an almost physical thing; she struggled to keep her knees from buckling beneath it. She knew that it was probing her, looking deep inside her, measuring her worth, and she found herself praying to whatever gods had created this place that this magnificent creature did not find her lacking in some way.

 _Be calm, child. There is no reason to fear. I am Maribel, Queen of Dragons, and I bid you welcome. My daughter Santana has spoken very highly of you. We rejoice at your presence among us, Singer of the True Song._

Tears sprang unbidden to Rachel's eyes and streamed down her face at the music of the Dragon Queen's voice in her mind. Young and old dragons, the members of the Queen's court and their families, all regarded her with kindness – some even with a kind of awe – and she knew that somehow, at this moment above all others, she had to master the powerful emotions rising within her and return the Queen's greeting with one equally as beautiful and elegant.

So she opened her mouth and began to sing. There were no words to the song, just a melody she somehow knew was as old and timeless as the solid rock upon which they stood. It was song of greeting, a song of gratitude for the gifts of friendship, loyalty and protection that the dragons had bestowed upon humankind in an age so far in the past as to be nearly beyond her comprehension. A bright yellow aura shimmered around her as she sang, then turned from yellow to gold and finally to pure, blinding white as her voice grew ever stronger and more powerful. Her passion moved the young dragons to launch themselves into the air and fly in wild, joyous circles above the palace, while the adults and elder dragons rumbled along in the strangest, yet most astonishingly beautiful harmony Rachel's ears had ever heard.

Closing her eyes as the song built to its explosive climax, she missed the sudden appearance of Marley Rose, standing beside the Dragon Queen in her human form, radiant in her simple, pristine white tunic and flowing skirt. The white diamond tiara and matching pendant she wore seemed to catch and hold the light of the aura surrounding Rachel, capturing the powerful magical essence of her song.

And when Rachel belted out the final high note, every one of the palace's priceless stained glass windows shattered, shards raining down to bounce harmlessly off the dragons' impenetrable scales.

She opened her eyes to see the open spaces where the windows had been, looked down in horror at the beautiful, multi-colored shards scattered at the dragons' feet, at her own. Helplessly, she raised her hands to her mouth, desperately wanting to find the words to apologize, but there were none to be found.

 _Oh – I'm – I'm so -_

And then her mind went silent as the Dragon Queen raised her beautiful, triangular head and fixed her with a look so gentle and compassionate that Rachel wanted to throw her arms around that silvery neck and weep with gratitude, because she knew it was all right, that they weren't going to reject her and send her away.

 _That was quite a performance, child,_ she said kindly, like a third-grade teacher to an overly exuberant finger-painting student. _Marley, will you see to the glass? Thank you._

"Of course, my Queen,"Marley replied aloud, sending a gentle smile toward Rachel as Santana nuzzled Rachel's side reassuringly with her long, tapered snout.

 _Very good. Now come, come, Rachel. The days here are longer than in your world, and we have much to discuss. Oh, and the Queen Mother is most anxious to meet you._

 _No pressure,_ Santana said wryly in her mind.

 _No teasing,_ mija _,_ warned the Queen. _Please forgive my daughter, child. On occasion, she does not think before she speaks. I believe she calls that 'keeping it real.'_ _ **I**_ _call it being foolish at times._

Rachel's eyes widened at hearing the gentle jibe from mother to daughter, then turned to grin brightly at Santana.

 _Sounds like she's got your number. I like her already._

 _And she already likes you better. Told you so._

The Dragon Queen flapped her enormous wings once in command, and the dragons all began to lumber back into the palace. And as they followed the Queen at the end of the procession, Rachel looked back to see Marley's hands enveloped in halos of blue and green light, shards of glass flying back into the spaces where the windows had been, to re-form themselves as completely as if they'd never been broken at all.


End file.
